The Artist
by Speechwriter
Summary: -OLD work- He hates her because she's perfect. He spreads rumors about her, and they get way out of hand. Ironically, only then does he realize that he doesn't hate her... maybe he even loves her? T: language. Undergoing renovation.
1. Chapter 1

**The Artist**

**Hey everyone! I really don't know how I have time to even write this … I really don't. Our teachers are SLAVEDRIVERS!!!!! I HATE THEM! Well, actually, one's mediocre, one just sucks, and two of 'em rock… but they're ALL SLAVEDRIVERS! Anyway. Yeah. I'll start and shut up now. As always, I don't own this… and R&R! By the way: I'm discontinuing quite a few of my stories… so yeah. I'll see ya's.**

**Note: This chapter has undergone renovations!**

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She sat in-between the boughs of a large oak tree, her hair lightly tossed by the wind. Her simple gold wire hoop earrings swayed and chopped at the side of her face. Two eyes, glistening emeralds, were looking down at a blank, off-white square of canvas. She lightly caressed the material, an artist's soft pencil and charcoal loosely grasped in the other hand. She looked up slightly, eyes fixed on the gently waving branch in front of her that held a bird's nest. With a few lines, she sketched the essence of the scene. 

It was spring. The cherry blossoms bloomed. The sweet scent of freshness and the sound of laughter drifted through Tomoeda. The lunchroom of Sakura's high school was outside, much to the delight of the students. Some lunch tables were occupied, others were empty, the students preferring to eat lunch on the wall, or on the sunlit field, or, in Sakura's case, in a tree.

She suddenly stopped drawing. Sighing, she glanced up at the cerulean heavens. It was a clear, balmy day. From her height, the raucous clanging of the school bells and the laughter of other students seemed distant. Glancing down at the ground, she smiled at a small squirrel slowly ascending her tree.

Without warning, she struck the image from the canvas and started anew, displeased with the angular structure of the bird's nest. She would draw. She would draw until the last rattling breath escaped her lips and her heart stopped.

Now, it was what she lived for.

She brushed back her honey-brown hair from her green gaze and suddenly saw a bird alight on the nest, mere feet from her. Her breath hitched for a mere second, and then she sketched it, hurriedly, like it was a last lifeline soon to leave her. She was pleased with the second rendition of the nest; the bird seemed to soften the twigs and make the scene brighter.

Fifteen minutes later, the same bird stood on the canvas, its head cocked as it observed its nest. The canvas was infinite. From such simple things as pencil or medium, life was created. Life that, for Sakura, no longer existed outside of her artwork.

Sakura leapt down from one bough to the next, leaving her safe cradle of meditation. Upon reaching the ground, she swarmed over the wall in a tumult of heavy bag, art materials hastily put away, and baggy jeans.

No one took notice of her as she sat at the end row of a lunch table, facing the wall of the schoolyard. She quietly removed a small sandwich from her bento box and began to eat it morsel by morsel.

As she stood up, tossing her sandwich bag into the trash can, she dropped her schoolbag. Her eyes widened as she froze, but she heard no tinkling shatter of her calligraphy ink and saw no spreading pool of spilt paint. Sighing in relief, she bent and sorted the items into their correct pockets once more.

As she looked up, she saw the kind blue eyes of Eriol Kinomoto, her brother and best friend. He helped her replace all her items.

"Hey, Eriol," she said with a small smile finally gracing her lips. "How was math?"

"What do you think?" he replied, grinning and helping her up. "You know I hate math."

"This is true," she agreed, nodding so her hoop earrings swayed slightly. Her black t-shirt sported a band no one knew and around her neck was a delicate necklace, with one small bead sporting a miniscule portrait. Her messy hair swung lightly as she stood up. She was tall, standing at five feet eight inches, but Eriol was taller, at six foot flat.

As they proceeded past the rest of the lunch tables, they observed the usual separation by clique. They traipsed past the people who were holding their calculators feverishly in front of them, programming furiously. They continued by those who discussed last night's game, past the ones who were listening to iPods blaring noisily. Strangely, as they got nearer the exit, the cliques became more and more exclusive. Finally Sakura stopped, almost out the door. In a large six-person booth right by the door were six of the most well-known people in Seijuu High. If there was a social hierarchy in Seijuu, these six were at the top of the pecking order.

To the far left sat Aiko Watanabe, a gorgeous blonde with a bank account balance higher than she could count. She was the moneybags of the group, all rolled up into one sexy lady that all the boys longed to have. Her hair was once jet black, but she had dyed it platinum, which accented her golden-tan skin. Her high cheekbones and arched eyebrows seemed to emanate disdain. Sakura had never seen her wear anything with more sleeve than a tank top, and it seemed that she was with a different guy every day. Her ruby-brown eyes always blinked slowly, and she licked her lips often, as if waiting for someone to kiss her. _And hey,_ Sakura thought, _it worked._

Next to Aiko was a redhead who was only known by Meri, instead of Meriwether, which she hated. She was an exchange student from America. Meri's appearance was startlingly different, with milky white skin with millions of freckles and bright blue eyes, contrasted with the flaming red of her short, choppily layered hair. Her mouth had an amazing capability for churning out almost sixty words per minute. She was fluent in English, Japanese, and gossip. She was taller than most of the Japanese girls at Seijuu High.

Next in line was Tomoyo Daidouji. With waves of dark hair cascading down her back and dark purple eyes to match, she looked kind. She dressed like a slut, wearing clothes that no one recognized as designer. They didn't seem to have labels. She had all the connections, as her mother was a corporate genius, and she was the head of the little gang. Sakura had known Tomoyo, and it pained her sometimes to see Tomoyo sitting in the same spot, every day, far away from she, who was once her good friend.

Across from the girls' side was the first male, Takai Kudo. A complete pervert, he was the most popular guy in the school, not to mention he had to-die-for looks, with brush-over sandy hair. His slanted eyes were a startling light blue, and his tall, muscled frame sported splashy designer labels. His fraternal twin brother, Zinan Kudo, had a soft, kind gold-eyed gaze and dirty blond hair with natural brown highlights. He was as tall as Takai, but seemed smaller. His frame, in contrast, was delicate. He was the only introvert in the group, but didn't always agree with his brother. He always seemed resentful that 'Zinan' meant 'second son'.

And the last sitting in the male row casually slumped against the wall as Sakura surveyed them, arm over the back of the seat.

Yep, you guessed it. Syaoran Li. Cheerful, dark, and a total playboy, he was the symbol of what Seijuu was supposed to be filled with: beings of physical perfection, with perfect grades and popular friends. His hair, always messy and slung over in the perfect fashion, ending in a triangle at the nape of his neck, was gorgeous and shaggy. His amber eyes were deep enough to drown in, so filled with sensuality one could drink of them and be drunk with lust after just one sip.

Sakura just stood there, observing the group.

_What do they have that I don't?_

She had more talent than all of them put together, except maybe Syaoran, who she knew, from personal experience, was quite gifted in many areas. Was it because she was not rich, not dressed like a slut, not particularly well-kept that she didn't know them? What petty reasons kept these people from knowing each other?

Slowly, the one on the end—Li—looked at her, lifting his gaze and staring through his chocolate bangs. Just as the three girls were about to turn to look at her, she paid heed to Eriol's insistent tugs on her arm and strode out the door. Once outside, she took a few deep breaths. He had seen her look at their group. This was strange.

Eriol waved goodbye to her as she turned the corner into her PE classroom. The mile run test was that day, and she felt as breezy and bright as if she had just gone through a rejuvenation machine. She was athletic, perfectly fit, her muscles toned. This was yet another item to add to her list of what she had, that some of the little group lacked. She saw how the three girls groaned, dragging their feet pathetically around the track.

Sakura started at the line. Right next to her were Syaoran, Takai, and Zinan, exchanging competitive glances. They loved running as well. Sakura felt her breath come hot as the silence of concentration before the start of the run engulfed the four of them.

As soon as the gun was fired, she set off at an impossible pace. She thought she heard Takai chuckle softly. He obviously thought she wouldn't be able to keep going at that speed. He was soon to be surprised.

_Can't go this pace, huh?_ she thought. _This is barely plodding._

Four laps later, on the final lap, Sakura was still feeling fresh. Glancing behind her, she saw the amazed faces of two of the boys – Zinan still had his usual calm expression on his face as he surveyed her.

As they started to speed up wearily, she poured on the tempo, beating the soft ground rhythmically. She ran, and then sprinted the last half lap, which took all she had left. When she finished, panting, she recorded on a sheet the time on the tiny yellow timer hanging around her neck.

Syaoran, Takai, and Zinan peered at her time nosily as soon as she was out of sight. Their jaws dropped as they saw that 4:58 was scrawled in her messy handwriting. Smiling, she set off to the hard tennis courts.

Half an hour later, however, all energy she had previously felt was impossibly drained. It was halfway into Sakura's math class, and she was quietly sketching a random face on the side of her math notebook, her mouth open. She could practically feel her senses shutting down, wanting to go to sleep behind the droning lecture of Suzuki-sensei. As the face she was drawing assembled a shape and features, she noticed it looked just like Syaoran Li. Angrily, she erased it.

Syaoran Li and Sakura Kinomoto had not had very happy past experiences with each other. He had not liked her artistic ability in comparison with his lopsided stick figures, to begin with. She always beat him in, well, everything, it seemed. Athletics, arts, and even academics.

So he got Tomoyo to help him. She seemed uneasy at the beginning, but Syaoran convinced her that if they didn't do something about Sakura, she'd become a total slut because of overconfidence. Tomoyo and Syaoran were dating at the time. They spread rumors that began as muttered "I think"s.

I think she broke up with that guy she's dating from that other school.

Yeah, I think she's got a new boyfriend now.

I heard that she dated three guys at the same time! I know, I thought she was nice, too… I guess I was wrong.

And no one ever bothered to ask Sakura if it was true, if she really did any of these things.

They never suspected Syaoran Li of lying. Not the flawless prince of the school. Not the captain of the soccer team. Not the soon-to-be valedictorian. Not even the person, hidden behind Syaoran Li, made of the sickly shade of green that caused Sakura to become completely untouchable.

Sakura sank quickly to the bottom of the social ladder, and Syaoran remained where he was, feeling only a slight tinge of guilt taint his 'victory' as he saw her sit alone. As the years went by, he became steadily more popular. Sakura's reputation lasted, the leper who no one except her brother would talk to. Sometimes, for reasons unknown to both of them, Syaoran would reinforce her mental dejection with hissed comments at her neck in math class.

"Slutty bitch," he whispered into the back of her head. She stiffened, and pretending to scratch her neck, jabbed the point of her pencil right into his cheek. He recoiled slightly, cursing.

Despite their relationship, Sakura surveyed his group every day, trying to see what they were really like from snatches of whisked conversation. Every so often, her sad, jade gaze would drift to him. She would tear her eyes away from his idyllic face like duct tape from a wound, reopening all the things she knew he had said about her, from mere jealousy. She had nothing against the Kudo twins. She barely even minded Meri. Tomoyo was a surprisingly horrible person, but Sakura supposed that she had only helped her boyfriend in "getting rid" of Sakura. Aiko, admittedly, bothered her, with her airheadedness and pouts, but they were all nothing compared to Syaoran.

And now her eyelids snapped back open unwillingly to copy down another set of notes. "Damn whore," Syaoran sneered. She clenched her fists and continued working on a seemingly impossible problem. Vector calculus? She just didn't see how that would help her in life. She scribbled down a reply. Freaking test.

She laid her head in her arms, and closed her eyes. Visions of a blood-red harvest moon shone in front of her eyes.

Syaoran, first checking the teacher's obliviousness, suddenly tugged Sakura's bra strap in the back, causing a small snap. Again, no one noticed, but Sakura turned right around. She smiled sweetly at him, and scribbled all over his test paper. Syaoran's eyes widened. He frantically began erasing, without time even to curse at her.

After math class, luckily the final period, Syaoran grabbed Sakura and slammed her up against a wall as the class streamed by.

"What was that for, bitch?" he growled at her.

"Hm, I'm sure you can think of something," she hissed back.

"No one cares about you, freak. Just stop."

"Wait, hang on. Me, stop? You're asking me to stop? Everything I do, you trigger! It's like shooting yourself in the head or something equally moronic! Like engaging in this conversation with me. No matter how much you curse, I'm not gonna care. You can take your reputation and your insults, and your little fabricated rumors, and shove it," she said, voice strained with anger.

Syaoran glared at her.

"Hey, did you hear about your twenty-first boyfriend, Akira? You just broke up with him to go out with someone else. What a slut you are," he snarled, repeating the rumor he had started just the day before.

Sakura looked at him, as she leaned against the wall. She suddenly leant over and tugged out her calligraphy pen from inside her bag. Without warning, without thought, she stabbed him, right in the forearm. Then she spoke,

"You can call me a slut. But you can think again if you think I'll ever forgive you for convincing people that I am one." Syaoran's eyes were watering. Sakura yanked out the tool and shoved it back into her bag, blood welling in one ugly dot from his forearm.

Eriol hurried from around the corner, and seeing Sakura standing next to a very pissed-off Li Syaoran, decided to intrude.

"Sakura! What did you do?"

"You know what I did. And you also know what he still does. Every, fucking, day!" She kicked Syaoran hard, with every word, but Syaoran just stared coldly back at her.

"Jeez, Sakura. You're always so quiet. Why does he bring out the worst in you?" Eriol said softly, totally ignoring Syaoran and lifting her bag.

"Cause he exists," she replied softly, her tone wispy and hushed again. Syaoran gave a small cry of outrage, and, unable to restrain himself, raised his hand and slapped her, hard, on the cheek.

She turned and stared at him silently, and that, more than anything that had just occurred, affected Syaoran. He saw a deep and incredible well of sadness in her eyes.

"Why did you do it? I used to know you. What happened?" she whispered, shaking her head, and before he could see the solitary tear drip from her eyelashes, he walked away.

After school, Eriol drove them home. She shoved open the door and stomped in, eyes narrowed. Eriol walked up to his room and started blasting Linkin Park at a sound unheard by man. Except Eriol, who was, in fact, hearing the sound quite clearly.

Sakura walked outside and, again, sat in a tree, her art supplies in a small holder she had carved into every tree there. She removed the calligraphy pen, still crusted with blood, and started to sketch a blood-red harvest moon above a darkened wheat field. Every line came out red with Syaoran's blood, until it dried a mottled brown color and the ink died.

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**Admittedly, this is a new style for me… High school. But anyway. **

**How ya like? I thought it was okay, and that's by my horribly stringent standards… but if it sucks, tell me, kay?**

**Bye!**

**RentPhreakGollum**

**Again, a few renovations. If you have any further ones you'd like to suggest, hit me! I'm open for ideas.**


	2. Chapter 2

**The Artist- Chapter 2**

**Okay. I've got a resolution. I'm going to stick with one story. This one. I've got absolutely no inspiration for RoF, and Emeralde is having some trouble being finished. The other two are done. So I'll just work on this one.**

**Recap of the last chappie: Exposition! One learns of Sakura and Syaoran's shitty relationship. **

**I LOVE YOU GUYS!!! A cookie for all of you! Wow! I can't believe the response this story's gotten, I'm very surprised! **

**I'm going to reply to all of them, kay? So if you leave a review you'll be acknowledged… (wink, wink, nudge, nudge)**

**MANY THANKS TO:**

**Butterfle, Ceridwen83, FFxKHxLove, feifiefofum, hateme, and tori kago no naka kara nako. All of these wonderful people are on the alert list! W00t! **

**Special Thanks To: **

**Mindy: As you can see, I am indeed updating. ;)**

**Rukz: Heh, heh, you'll find out about Touya… be patient, young grasshopper.**

**FFxKHxLove: Meep! Thanks!**

**Tknnkn: Heheh, tori kago no naka kara nako, I'm just gonna abbreviate your name… And, yes, she stabbed him muchly, but this is nothing compared to her emotional pain.**

**Butterfle: Yeah, I was kind of hoping to get that "I HATE YOU" mood.**

**Buttercuptenshi: I abbreviated your name too… Yeah, Syaoran's kind of a bitch in this story.**

**Hateme: When I read your profile I was like 'what'? You flame people? Lol…**

**Diago: Thanks, first reviewer!!**

**Waitingforjudgement: Yay, I will! With this reaction, how could I not?**

**Gollum**

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"She is such a bitch," Syaoran hissed. The group huddled over his arm, where a pockmark from a certain calligraphy pen was clearly visible. 

"I know. I still can't believe she lost her virginity at thirteen. I mean, who'd WANT to bang her?" Meri jeered, looking around as if to make sure no one would hear her loud voice.

"She probably had to pay the guy to do it," Aiko sniggered. Most of them laughed unpleasantly, looking around once more. Zinan alone stayed quiet, rolling his eyes at his brother and wishing inwardly that he was somewhere else.

"Hey, look! She's over there!" Tomoyo exclaimed, pointing up into a tree.

"Dude, she's there every day," Takai said, also glancing into the leafy arbor.

"What's wrong with her?" Syaoran muttered. "Not only is she a slut, she's also a complete wacko. I mean, why doesn't she hang out with anyone?"

"No one wants to!" Takai responded, and they all nodded in cruel assent.

They continued exchanging bits of nastiness about Sakura, like tiny sandbags reinforcing their egos, boosting them higher somehow by talking about others. It had been this way for so long, talking about Sakura for no reason whatsoever, that none of them seemed to notice that it was a real person they were talking about.

Sakura heard small laughing noises. She turned to see the Group looking at her, expressions full of malice. She waved sarcastically and slowly put her drawing materials in her bag, then looked straight at them once more and held up her middle fingers to them, sticking her tongue out. Then she calmly resumed drawing, completely unfazed by their open gossip.

She lowered her pencil to yet another blank square of canvas and began to draw.

_After school_

Sakura and Eriol walked alone.

"Why does he hate me?" she pondered aloud.

"Why do you hate him?" Eriol responded.

"Thank you, Confucius," she snapped. "I hate him because he hates me!"

"So… maybe he hates you because you hate him because you think he hates you but it may just be because he thinks you hate him for a reason?" Eriol spewed, prepared for her attack on the ridiculous sentence.

Instead, Sakura just stood there. "So you're saying I should be NICE to him?!?" she sputtered. "Yeah, right. Let's see that happen. He'll just be exactly the same. NO chance."

"Well, if one of you doesn't eventually, he's gonna be even worse."

Sakura sighed.

Lying in her bed, she gazed up at the ceiling, listening to Vindicated by Dashboard Confessional pounding through the walls.

**Hope**

**Dangles on a string**

**Like slow-spinning redemption**

**Winding in, winding out, the shine of it has caught my eye**

"Nice to Li? Maybe just staying out of his way would be enough?"

**And roped me in, so mesmerizing and so**

**Hypnotizing**

**I am captivated, I am**

**Vindicated**

After finally deciding that this would be her new course of action, she reluctantly yanked out a math book and started to do her homework grudgingly. She sang the refrain softly.

A few long hours later, she traipsed off to her afternoon job, changing out of her baggy, ripped jeans and huge sweatshirt into a uniform. As she stepped out of the house, she was instantly soaked. She looked up and saw Syaoran Li and Tomoyo Daidouji sitting on one of the gables of the roof, slapping a high five. She only shot them a 'ha-ha, very funny' look and went back inside.

"She didn't even react!" Tomoyo muttered. "What the hell? I'd be so angry if someone soaked my clothes."

"She's not you," Syaoran pointed out. "Come on; let's get down from here before her brothers come out."

Sakura reached her workplace fifteen minutes later.

"Hey, Meiling."

"Saku!" she squealed. "Guess what? We just got a humongous order from some random guy! He's gonna pick up today, and he's supposed to be rich as HELL." She snickered softly. Meiling's ruby eyes glinted with the foreseen prospect of a large tip.

Sakura rolled her eyes, pitying her avaricious friend. Meiling Satou was the most bubbly, and the most money-hungry, person that Sakura knew.

"Well, is the order even ready?" she asked lazily, licking her lips and slurping down some water.

"Well, YEAH, I mean, if it isn't, I wouldn't be so… um… excited… I…" Meiling shuffled some papers, opened some boxes, checking the order, and looked up with horror. "AAA! NO! IT'S NOT READY!!!"

Sakura, anticipating hysterics, fled the scene.

The two of them operated a china store. They received many orders, but only she and Meiling worked there, resulting in enough money to pay for mortgage, not even counting Eriol's income. Meiling owned the store, but acted as if Sakura owned shares in it, like it was a giant company. Each dish for sale there was hand-painted… by someone far away in a factory, undoubtedly.

"What do we have to package?" Sakura asked, peeking back into the room upon hearing Meiling's rant ending.

"Let's see… a large platter, two huge bowls, ten small bowls, ten saucers, ten cups, eleven painted dishes, and we have to gift-wrap nine pairs of chopsticks," Meiling said with a sheepish smile. She indicated stacks of boxes on the ground. "The dude must be having family over or something."

Sakura's eyes widened and she began packing the items into fancy, individual boxes in a frenzied manner. Meiling did up her long, raven hair into two buns, shoved it out of her face, and joined Sakura.

A half an hour later, almost immediately after the pair had wrapped the last pair of chopsticks, the bell rang. Meiling straightened the gift wrap on one of the chopstick cases nervously.

Sakura was getting some more water as the customer walked in. When she turned around, she dropped the water all over her sneakers.

"Why, hello," Syaoran Li said, bemusedly observing her shocked expression.

"Why the hell do you need eleven painted dishes?" Sakura blurted the first derogatory thing she could think of to say.

"Shut up," he said, smiling in a pitying way. Her face flushed and she turned away.

Meiling watched the exchange between the two, ebony eyebrows slightly raised.

Sakura shoved the enormous pile of boxes into his hands ungraciously. He stuck his credit card into her hand like he was feeding an alligator a dead fish, and she swiped it menacingly as if killing something with a knife. She jabbed it back into his hand, and he exited, scowling at her.

"Release the anvil!" she whispered in a loud voice right before he left the building. He looked around suspiciously, and then looked outside and up, before hurriedly striding down the street, the precariously teetering stack of boxes waving slightly.

"Lovers' tiff?" Meiling asked, in an understanding but humored voice, her claret eyes glinting mischievously.

"No, I just hate him," Sakura sighed.

_9:00_

Sakura sat on the floor of her silent bedroom. Incense smoked from a quietly smoldering stick in the corner, filling the room with a sweet, slightly pungent smell. Taking out a knife, she slowly pricked her finger. She winced, but let blood ooze drop by drop onto a palette.

_I hear she went out with four guys at once._

_I hear she acts all innocent, and then dances at a strip club._

_I hear she had sex with her own brother._

She would never, ever forgive him for that one.

Sakura lowered her head, honey bangs drifting lazily in front of her eyes. Her petite mouth opened a crack, and eked small sobs out of the aperture.

Touya had died three months later.

Syaoran had started the first rumor in August of ninth grade. Slowly more of them crept around the school like an unseen demon slipping in and out of mouths. In June of freshman year, it had gotten to the point where she, who had been the most popular girl in the school, she, who had been nice to everyone and never asked for anything in return- she, the same person, sat by herself. No one talked to her except Eriol. In the halls she clenched her books to herself, thinking of paintings uncreated and nothing else.

A heart, filled with passion.

A thorny whip flaying skin from its flesh.

Eyes filled with her tears, dripping onto the paper, but they went unnoticed. Shock and horror that Sakura was such a slut shot through the student body. No one bothered to ask her. Tell her that people were saying things. Not a soul was kind enough.

In September of her tenth school year, Touya had been whisked away, like a leaf into a jet plane's roaring motor. He had had heart cancer, but it didn't stop him from being strong, from trying to protect Sakura from life.

_"Sakura," he had said. "Just show me the gaki who starts rumors and I'll show you a dude who's smashed to a pulp." Lying on the hospital bed, he had coughed, his kind eyes slightly filmy with malnutrition._

_Sakura had knelt by his side. "It's okay, Touya. I don't need people."_

_"No, Sakura," he had whispered. "Everyone needs people. Don't ever let anyone bring you down."_

I'm sorry, Touya. But I can't do that. I'm not strong like you.

_"Eriol?" Touya had coughed, his brown hair waving slightly in the fan's breeze._

_"Yeah?" Eriol said, voice choked._

_"Take care, buddy. And dude, try out for track. I know you're better than anyone else at that school," Touya said, trying to act casual, trying not to act like he was dying._

_"Touya!" Sakura cried suddenly, taking his hand and crying into it, her green eyes leaking tears, her teeth clenched. "Don't go, Touya… don't leave me…" she sobbed hysterically. Touya lifted her chin and looked into her eyes._

_"I'll always be here, Sakura. I'll be there for you."_

_"Touya… what'll we do without you?" whispered Eriol._

_"I- I'll be there," said Touya, and his brown eyes started to fill with unspilled tears. "Don't forget. I'll be there."_

_He had closed his eyes. Sakura had screamed, wailed. But Touya wouldn't open them again._

_You said you'd be there… You said you'd BE THERE FOR ME!_ Sakura felt a cry ripping at her throat, and an animal sob tore from her closed mouth, frenzied noises falling limp from her lips, splashing the immediate area like her tears. She shook her head, desperately trying to compose herself, her tear-soaked hair catapulting tiny droplets everywhere. She felt her chest heaving, spasming, as she threw herself to the ground, pulling at her hair miserably.

No one asked. So no one knew.

Sakura had started cutting herself, slitting her wrists with a tiny kitchen knife. Once, Eriol had walked in on her blood pouring onto the carpet. He had been so angry, so scared, that Sakura stopped. She began painting, drawing, digging herself deeper into the artistic world. She decided that she needed no one but Eriol. No matter what Touya had said about needing people.

He wasn't with her, anyway.

Sakura smiled through her tears, closing her eyes, and plastered a band-aid over the prick mark where she had cut her finger. She took a brush to the slightly congealed blood on the palette, dabbling the horsehair tip in her own blood.

One stroke. Another. A picture formed. She squirted paint onto the palette, mixing her blood with her life as a maroon color appeared spread on the canvas. A heart. And eyes made their way onto her canvas, a pair of magnificent but malicious amber eyes. And hands. Those hands that every school day tapped her back, accompanied by some bit of malice. Between the hands a heart, stripped bare, pulsing out her blood. She painted in a harvest moon, that bloody harvest moon she saw when she closed her eyes, that harvest moon that was hovering in the sky the day her brother exited stage.

Touya.

XXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXX

Why do I hate her?

_I don't know anymore. I just do._

Maybe it's because she's repulsive in every way.

_She's not my friend._

She's better.

_She's different._

It boiled down to that, Syaoran decided. Being different. But that was enough. She was also mean to him. His messy hair fell into his eyes as he thought, thought, thought – an activity he usually didn't engage in- especially about a leper.

XXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXX

Eriol pushed open the door to Sakura's room.

"Painting with blood again?" he asked disgustedly, looking at the picture.

"Yeah," she said, holding up her pricked finger. "Don't worry, I didn't use my wrist."

"Are you going to try to stop being… well… you know, bitchy… to Li?" Eriol asked awkwardly, seeing Sakura's red nose and eyes still leaking tears.

"I'll try, Eriol. But only for you. Only for you, I'll try." She looked up from her painting. "You know what he says about me. It's gonna be hard to show restraint from… stabbing him again… MMGH! He makes me so mad!" she snarled.

Eriol sat down next to her. "Yeah, but I guess you can try. Thanks. It, well, it hurts to see you so… affected."

"Like it?" she said, her voice cracking as she hoisted her picture. Eriol stared, horrified, at the dripping, bleeding heart in Syaoran's hands.

"Come here," Eriol whispered. "Shhh… It's okay… I'm here, Sakura. It's okay." He hugged her, felt her frail body racked with sobs, and closed his eyes, hoping, wishing that when he opened them again, she would be the Sakura of old, the cheerful cherry blossom he used to know.

XXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXX

Sakura flung the door to the classroom open.

"I'M NOT LATE!!!" she screeched frantically to the empty room. She looked at the clock in the upper right hand corner of the room. She was a round hour early. Her eyes narrowed and a vein pulsed as she looked at her watch.

"Eriol…" she snarled. He had set it forward an hour.

"Who are you talking to this time, Kinomoto?" Sakura's breath caught as she swiveled around, to see Syaoran standing right behind her.

Opening her mouth to make some cutting comment, she remembered her words to Eriol. Her pink lips closed, her green eyes took on a note of defiance, she put her head a little higher in the air, uttered a small 'hmph', and, hair bouncing, sat down in her chair.

"Myself," she replied acerbically, and then she sighed, realizing how feeble her retort was, and put her head in her arms. "No one. No one." _No one, you asshole. _Horrified to feel yet another drop fall from her eyes, she wiped it away from her face, and tugged out a piece of paper.

"What should I draw?" she said, breathing in shakily, attempting to be civil. Syaoran, taken aback, said the first thing that came to mind.

"Your _mom!_" he said belligerently.

"My mom died having Eriol. We don't have any pictures of her," Sakura said.

"Your dad then."

"He died too. Plane crash."

"Your brother?" he said tentatively.

_Okay… he means Eriol… he means Eriol._ Taking a steady breath, she nodded.

He raised his eyebrows. Would no harangue be uttered from her lips today? She turned to him, with no anger or hate in her expression, and said,

"I can't draw with you watching."

Stunned once more by her lack of invective, he turned and resumed wiping the board. Why the swift change of attitude?

"Bitch…" he whispered to himself. Bitch for confusing him. For messing up every inner thought he had of her.

Sakura's hands clenched. Why did he still call her a bitch, even when she tried to be nice? _I kept my sentences short so I wouldn't be tempted to add in an 'idiot' or 'shithead' or 'moron'… And I didn't say any of those! So why's he still being an idiot and a shithead and a moron?_

Sakura shoved her thoughts aside, rolling her eyes, and started to sketch Eriol's face onto the page. High cheekbones, kind cobalt eyes only a crack open, glasses slipping on his brow as he inclined his head, hugging a girl. She decided to draw Eriol a girlfriend, seeing as he deserved one.

Half an hour later, no other exchange had passed between Syaoran and Sakura, and Eriol's eyes gazed down into the dark hair of a girl, his chin nestled among her thick tresses. Happy with the drawing, she faded the edges slightly to give it more effect and she shoved it into her bag. Looking up at the board, she saw the class-work assigned. Smirking, she removed her book from her bag and started to complete the work ahead of time. As she worked speedily, she silently greeted a welcome class period of drawing.

Syaoran sat behind her just for the halibut. (A/N: Lol! My acting teacher said that… cause if you say it out loud it sounds like "hell of it".) As she was completing number thirty-nine, he took her calligraphy pen surreptitiously from her bag and drove it into the inside of her forearm, dangling over the seat, determined to have revenge.

She looked around slowly, not even flinching. Syaoran's eyes met hers. She had a hollow look around her.

"I didn't insult you. I didn't call you names, although all of the terms running through my head would describe you perfectly. And you stab me. Now, is that nice?" she hissed, becoming more obviously heated by the word.

"Is it nice to stab me?" he replied, shaking down his sleeve and showing her the mark that her pen had left. Impossibly, she tugged the pen out of her arm without even cringing.

"Ah. Revenge," Sakura said derisively.

"Ye-huh," replied Syaoran, smirking. "You did it first."

"Do you want to see what you've done to me?" she asked. "Do you want to see?" Without waiting for a reply, she stood up, moved to his desk, and shoved down her sleeve all the way to her shoulder. Horrified, he looked at the scars that littered her pale skin, flecked with blood from the calligraphy pen's new mark. They were jagged. Some were merely a shade lighter than her skin; some were obvious and almost white.

"And do you want to see what you've done? You _want_ to know?" She reached into her bag, hand groping for the picture she had painted with her own blood, resolute to show him the effect he was having on her life. He merely stood up, eyes wintry, as she shuffled in the pockets.

"You did that to yourself."

"You say that," she grunted, rising as well, her search for the painting futile. "But you know the truth. Dude, you're so dense. You can't even see it. If brains were money, you'd be a freaking charity case," she sneered, and walked away.

Syaoran looked at her back, and thought of her eyes, seeing once more the coldness in them. He backed up slowly, then turned and walked slap bang into a desk. He strode, more quickly, away from her, walking down two isles to his desk.

Sakura looked out the door and saw a crowd heading towards the classroom.

"You did this. You moved my hand when I stuck the knife in. You did it." She called one last time.

And the door opened. And students streamed in.

Males attached themselves to females, as the teacher wasn't there. Syaoran grabbed some blonde, his girlfriend of the week, and they started to suck face. He stuck his hand under her shirt and shoved her over onto the desk, slipping his tongue deftly in-between her lips...

And Sakura looked away, disgusted. She was so glad Eriol was her brother and not someone like that... that... that _excuse _for a person.

* * *

**Hmmm… There's something wrong with this chapter, but I don't know what. Is it just the fact that the whole Touya conflict is introduced too early?**

**Please tell me. I love reviews, but really. I need to know. I need to know what's wrong with my story. If there're any glaring problems, PLEASE point them out? **

**The response to this story makes me happy!**

Slight renovations go boom.

Hey, hey, check out this joke.

Johnny was a chemist,

but Johnny is no more.

What Johnny thought was H2O

was H2SO4!

Ahahahaha! Only a true nerd would get it.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Artist (drum-roll, please) –Chapter 3.**

**Wow! I don't believe how much I love you guys!!! This rocks! The definite best response I've ever gotten!!!!! Okay. I'll stop freaking out now, heh. **

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**All of you guys rock the world for reviewing! Hum. It's taking up a lot of space… yay. Oh, by the way… thank you especially to FFxKHxLove, Waitingforjudgement and Hooplahs, who offered constructive criticism on the story! **

**Now. Back to business as usual! Seeya!**

**Note: This chapter has undergone reconstruction work!**

* * *

The portrait finished, the canvas dry, she packed away her things, feeling… well, not happy, but not unhappy either. Apathy wasn't too bad, considering how she should have felt. She met Eriol near the back of the lunchroom and they ate together, laughing together about ridiculous things that only brother and sister could connect. 

"What's in your bento?" she asked.

"You should know. You packed it, doofus," Eriol replied with a smile. "You seem less depressed today than usual."

"Yeah, well, I did a painting that I'm kind of happy about."

"Really? Let's see!" Eriol enthused, looking up from a thermos of waterlogged, revolting-looking noodles.

Sakura pulled out her picture of Zinan. Eriol whistled a long, low whistle.

"That's… but that's—"

"Yep," Sakura confirmed, before Eriol could turn around and blow their cover. "I think I'll do each of them. Try and capture a nice side, you know? If they have one, I'll paint it… for some, it should be quite difficult." She glared at a few of them.

"Heh, good luck. You know that Aiko? I heard her telling someone that you were a transvestite that's actually gay," Eriol muttered.

"Hah! That's a new one!" Sakura chortled cheerily, completely surprising Eriol with her jocular tone.

They walked to the door, and Zinan caught Sakura's eye, surprising her for a moment before they exited.

_Civics Class_

"Ugh! I don't get this at ALL!" Sakura murmured angrily to herself, poring for the third time over the rules for their ballot worksheet. "If I don't even get how they WORK, how am I supposed to–"

"Make one yourself?" Zinan Kudo finished, turning his head. Sakura, startled, blushed. He sat in front of her and generally kept to himself. He certainly did not poke her and mutter insults.

"Yeah," she whispered, immediately sinking back into mouse-mode.

"Hey, I'm not gonna like kill you, you know," he said. She looked at him. His dirty blond hair hung around his eyes appealingly, and his dark gold eyes had a sheen of compassion in them. He was very attractive. Not only was he attractive, he was talking to her, which surprised Sakura immensely. She suddenly realized she had been staring, rather rudely, and not saying anything. She flushed a reddish color and pointed to the ballot worksheet.

"I, I, uh, don't get which candidates get selected."

Zinan smiled and indicated a few lines of fine print at the bottom. "That should help that," he chuckled, not unkindly. She read them and smiled.

"Thanks," she said, and he nodded in response and turned back around.

_What a coincidence… I always thought he was just some random rich guy… and on the day I draw him, I find out he's actually pretty nice! _

Zinan collected his stuff as the class prepared to leave. Sakura rounded off her drawing of a ballot and handed it to her teacher, and put her materials back in her bag.

"Hey, Kudo-san!" she called, softly. Zinan turned. "Arigato gozaimashita again," she said. He waved and walked out of the room.

Across the room, Meri Sanders had watched the whole, fascinating exchange, and was most assertively not a pleased little girl. She had something to tell the others, all right.

Sakura went to the bathroom, grinning happily like she hadn't in months. One of the Group was a decent guy, she had done a great picture, and only history class was left that day!

Nothing could ruin it.

She should've known better than to think that thought.

_History Class_

_Anyone but him, anyone but him, please, ANYONE but… _

"Li, Syaoran, and Kinomoto, Sakura."

Sakura's mouth slowly opened, gaping like a speechless fish in incredulity. What were the odds? WHAT WERE THE FREAKING ODDS?! She turned dubiously to look at Syaoran, who sat several rows behind her. He smiled languidly.

"Whore," he mouthed. Instead of the usual response of 'asshole', she only rolled her eyes, clenched her teeth, and turned back to fix her eyes upon the teacher.

A history project on China's primordial armies to be completed over the course of a month? No, thank you, Sakura thought. Especially not with… with _him_. But she would try to stand him. Even if only for Eriol.

Syaoran stared at her back with antipathy. _Meri informed me that she saw Sakura hitting on Zinan in Civics. She really is a whore._

He had finally convinced himself. Finally, he couldn't even feel the line between the truth and what he, along with some friends, had fabricated. He couldn't remember. Did she actually date several guys at once? Was that one of the ones he'd made up? He just couldn't seem to recall…

Sakura could feel his eyes burning into her back, along with glares from Meri, Aiko, and Takai, who were sitting at various points around the room. Sweating, she glanced from side to side. _Hoeeee!_ She tied her hair up, the feather-light layers floating in front of her face like a shield off of which their looks glanced.

She stood up immediately as the vociferous clang of the bell sounded, eager to get away from those glowers.

Eriol looked at the four from the group closing in upon Sakura and shook his head. Trouble was approaching fast, an ill wind in the form of four sets of feet clacking in the same rhythm on the tiled floor. He shoved his books into his bag and quickly wended a way in between the crammed desks.

"Hey, Kinomoto. What's up with you and my brother?"

Sakura turned around and nearly did a face-plant into Takai's neck. She slowly moved backwards, tripped right into her chair, and looked up into his menacing face. He laughed unkindly. "Clumsy," he said.

"What? Nothing. He was helping me with civics," she said. Looking around, she saw that Sanders and Watanabe were also making their way towards her. Slowly, she slid her bag between two of them towards the wall to avoid her canvases getting ruined in case of a speedy get-away.

"Civics, huh?" Syaoran looked at her skeptically, sneering.

"Yes, civics," she said astringently. As Meri and Aiko completed the circle around her and her desk, Eriol shoved Syaoran aside and broke into the line.

"What the hell are you doing?" he said.

"She was flirting with my brother in Civics," Takai growled.

"Civics," was the whispered word echoed by the rest of the circle. Eriol took Sakura by the shoulders and steered her out of the semicircle. The other four formed a line facing Sakura and Eriol.

"Sakura wouldn't 'flirt'. The only thing she does is work and paint. She doesn't talk to people, thanks to you airheads," Eriol snapped.

"Whatever. She's just slutty," Aiko giggled to Meri. Eriol looked her in the eye.

"Care to say that again?" he murmured, blue eyes burning into hers frighteningly. She turned to Meri and started whispering. Eriol once again directed his gaze at Syaoran after looking at Meri warningly for a second.

"Stay away from my sister."

"Can't, if we're doing a project together, eh?" he smirked.

"Come on, Sakura," Eriol said, and she grabbed her bag from the ground. They shoved a way through the middle of the line. As he passed him, Eriol snarled to Syaoran so no one else could hear,

"Don't hurt her any more."

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"Why? Why is she so freaking ANGSTY?" Syaoran ranted, standing in the courtyard. "She thinks SHE has it bad… two nice brothers… talent in everything… her emo-ness, it's just PATHETIC," he yelled to himself.

Syaoran stormed inside the huge mansion, slamming the door behind him, turning left and right through the rabbit's burrow of hallways until he came to a gymnasium. He entered and began furiously whacking away at his targets.

XXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXX

Sakura sat in her room once more, painting. A frail rose, pale and about to snap, with withered petals. A weed, curling up around the stem, black in color. A distant sun, elusive, unable to be reached to make nourishment.

_Why can't they see any good in me? Are they just so closed-minded that they think anyone different's a slut? _

BRRING! BRRING! BRRING! BRRING! BRR- Sakura picked up the phone.

"Hello?" she said sweetly.

"Could I please speak to Kinomoto, Sakura?"

"Speaking."

"This is Li. Syaoran Li."

"I got that bit, Li. I hear your stupid voice from nowhere often enough."

"Okay, bitch. Whatever. We need to work on the damn project."

"And you swear why?"

"Because I hate you, moron."

"And you hate me why?"

There was a pause as Syaoran considered the question. His brow furrowed. It was because she was perfect in every way, infuriatingly so… and was she a slut? Again he tried to dissect his rumors from reality.

But he wouldn't say that.

"Because you're a slut," he replied, finally going with the latter.

"So you finally believe your own rumors?" Sakura muttered sadly.

"When do you want to work on the project?" he said, rudely interrupting.

"How about now, when I can still tolerate you, _asshole!_" she hissed, and slammed down the phone. Breathing hard, she flipped open a phone book to 'Li'. Sighing and calming down slightly, she surveyed the thirty or so pages of 'Li's there were. Li Fong, Li Chin, Li An… Li Yelan, head of the multibillion dollar corporation… yep, that's Syaoran.

Sakura committed to memory the address.

"Eriol, I'm going to go to Mr. Fucktard's house to do the stupid project, okay?" she called into his room through the door over What I've Done, the song of the day.

"Yeah. Look both ways!" he yelled back, giving her a kind smile.

Sakura hoisted her social studies binder into her arms and stomped out the door, hoisting roller blades onto her feet. She buckled them on and slowly slid down the sidewalk. She roller bladed over two streets, then up four more. Letting the fingers of the wind stroke her silky hair, she held out her arms and removed her sweater. Her t-shirt clung to her stunning, usually-hidden figure.

It was still too hot. Sitting down in the dark of a port-a-john, she slid on a pair of shorts, an action she didn't like doing. She put her skates back on and flew onwards, letting the wind embrace her once again. Her slender, gorgeous legs shone in the sun, tan and smooth. Her arms swung out behind her, waving in the downhill gusts. Without her usual jacket and cargo pants, she felt as if she was naked, but embraced by an angel's wings.

She looked next to her and saw a tall young man on a bicycle shimmering in the heat. "Onii-chan!" she murmured, then looked into the sky and smiled, and was free again. She looked to the side, and Touya waved softly. She returned it and he faded, but her smile did not. It remained, glowing more brightly than ever to know that Touya was there.

Sakura spotted the address immediately, and without difficulty – it was in giant, flashy, brass numbers that were like a foot tall – and did a grating turn into the gates of the Li Mansion.

She rang the bell on one of the pillars by the iron gate, and a small panel slid up to reveal a small television screen. She gaped at this open display of wealth, disgusted yet awed. An old guard's face appeared, looking half asleep and about to doze off.

"Kinomoto, Sakura to see Li Syaoran."

"All right," wheezed the ancient dude, and pressed a button. The television screen was hidden again and the elephantine gates swung open, making her feel tiny and insignificant somehow.

As Sakura rolled inside, her happiness from skating dissipated. The mansion was huge, and it was owned by Li.

She knocked on the large oak door, and Syaoran answered it.

"Konnichiwa," Sakura greeted stiffly.

"Konnichiwa. Come in," he said, ungraciously waving her inside. "Let's work in the guard's room. It's the best for working and stuff."

She followed mutely, merely taking in her surroundings in open wonder. The halls had marble floors and huge windows which let voluminous streams of light fall in-between the pillars. The lamps hanging from the ceilings had to be antiques, each and every one, and she felt like dodging away, nervous that they would fall.

Syaoran pushed open the door to the guard's room after they made several turns.

"Wei, have you been here all night?" he asked incredulously.

The guard Sakura had seen, Wei, lifted his head. He looked even more tired in person. Syaoran helped him up, looking concerned. Sakura stood there, one eyebrow raised. Li was being kind? This was new… Syaoran glared at her, as if guessing her thoughts, and helped Wei out of the room. Sakura cleaned up the room slightly, making a work area.

Sakura quietly set up the assignment in front of her.

A three page report on the subject, not to mention a visual, with a presentation by both parties, was required.

Sakura groaned. On an ARMY!?

Syaoran returned presently.

"We get points for neatness, creativity, length, public presentation, and information," Sakura informed him awkwardly. He nodded coldly, not looking at her.

"I have an idea," she said sharply. "How about we attempt to get along, you know, for the sake of the project?" He nodded again, still looking at something else. "Look at me!" she said fiercely.

He turned reluctantly and looked straight into her eyes, a slight pink color invading his cheeks for a moment. Her eyes were a beautiful, crystal shade of green. He'd never noticed. He thought he could feel himself and Sakura connect for a second, like a bolt of electricity leaping into a current.

"Promise to be nice, well, tolerate me, at least here, for the sake of our grades?" she said in a low voice, words echoing around the guard's room.

"Promise," he muttered.

"Pinky promise?" she pressed further.

"Jeez, what are you, a fifth gra–…" he trailed off, and took her pinky with his own sheepishly. "Happy?" he mumbled. She nodded.

"Okay. Now. I've got an idea," he said. She braced herself patiently for some foolish idea, but she was silent. "Since the ancient armies fought on foot and with swords, we could give an example of a fight!" he exclaimed, growing more enthusiastic. Sakura's eyebrows rose.

"Um, have you considered what would happen, if, um, I don't know HOW to swordfight?" she asked, unimpressed, fully prepared to lie and say that she didn't know how.

His face fell, childish glee vanishing. "Luckily for you," she mumbled, relenting, "I do. But if I hadn't, then…" Syaoran chuckled, but then stopped midway. She was talking. Making jokes. He hated her, but he was laughing, smiling at her, even if just for a second.

Sakura looked at him, confused and suspicious. He was just looking at her, just looking. It was unnerving.

"Um, Li?" she waved her hand in front of his face. "We should, uh, start," she said abruptly.

"Oh." He blinked owlishly. "Right. There's, um, a gym this way if you want to try a couple of swords." She nodded and followed him.

"Dude, your house is huge…" Sakura murmured, awed, looking up at the monolithic walls.

"Yeah, it's about five centuries old. My mom's been restoring it," he responded boredly. "Here we are."

Sakura entered the colossal gymnasium, twice the size of the one at school. Syaoran went into a side room as Sakura took a seat on some mats, merely gazing around the architectural wonder. _How the hell does this thing stay UP?_

Sakura's father appeared in front of her. _It's a simple matter, Sakura-chan. The Romans invented the arch millennia ago, and this is just multiple arches._ Then he vanished. Sakura reached out for him, but not in time. _Dad… _

Syaoran returned suddenly, looking strangely at her outstretched arm. "I brought a few swords for you to try." He held out a pile and dropped it on the mats next to her.

"Thanks," she said, curious eyes glancing downwards. She picked up one with a shining wooden handle and a green pommel stone embedded in the hilt. The blade was made of some sort of light steel and swished in her hand.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to get that one. It's probably too breakable," Syaoran said, and tried to pull it out of her hand, but she pulled back.

"I like the balance," she said, and balanced it on one fingertip.

"How do you know sword-fighting, anyway?" Syaoran inquired.

"My brother taught me," she replied shortly, face falling once more. "Let's go."

Syaoran felt a strange emotion as she mentioned her brother and her face saddened. He could not identify it as they started to duel, padding the swords with cloths so they couldn't cut. Was it pity? No, he never pitied Kinomoto – she was too unpitiable, never looking to anyone for help of any kind. Was it sadness? Why would he feel sad that Kinomoto was talking about her brother? Finally, he discovered what it was.

Shame built in him. Guilt piled up, and he forced it down into his dueling, mouth twitching downwards as he remembered one of the rumors he had started about her and her brother.

He thought it was pathetic that all he could think was 'oops'.

They dueled for minutes, Sakura looking bored. Syaoran stepped it up a couple notches, and they fought a little more intensely, blades weaving webs of steel around the pair. Finally, Sakura went full in, twisting, ducking, slashing, and stabbing. Syaoran grinned and went for it too. This continued for fifteen minutes, and then they both collapsed onto the mats.

"Eriol can fight?" he asked.

"No. Touya," she mumbled.

Sakura once again retreated into her shell, placing the sword carefully on the mat.

"Did he teach you self-defense?"

"…yeah. But let's just show some tactics or something instead of hand-to-hand full combat fighting, okay? Flipping, you know, might not be too good for school." Once again, Syaoran found himself chortling and stopping abruptly.

"Okay."

They returned to the guard's room. Sakura worked on the visual as Syaoran worked on the report. Silence filled the room, barely uncomfortable.

"It's five." Sakura said finally. "I gotta go."

Checking his watch, Syaoran saw that she was right.

"Okay. I'll, uh, see you at school, then," he said uneasily.

"That wasn't so hard, huh?" she said softly. That bit of red invaded his cheeks once more.

"Bye," he said stiffly. She waved, and he hesitantly returned the gesture as she skated off.

XXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXX

Sakura arrived home. He had been civil. Why had he not insulted her? Why had she, come to think of it, not insulted him? It hadn't been that difficult…

Was it because there was no reason to?

XXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXX

Syaoran buried his face in his hands. Sighing loudly and peeking his eyes above them, he looked at the security tapes. His mother had ordered him to review the tapes every day because of Wei's age. Why she didn't just hire another servant to do it he didn't know… He was on the last video, that of the street down the left side outside the gate.

Syaoran saw a hot girl coming down the road. He leaned closer to the big-screen television, a playboy smirk lifting his lips. He paused it. The wind was outlining her perfect figure, her slim hips, her tiny waist, and – he realized he was verging on stalker-ness – those nice-looking boobs. He moved his eyes down to her legs.

_Wow… why don't I know her? She looks about my age… Seijuu is the only high school for ages around… _His hungry eyes feasted on her lean, muscular thighs, her slender calves. His eyes roamed back up, looking at her arms, spread out like she was flying. He looked up at her face. Her mouth and nose were covered by flying honey-colored hair, and her eyes were closed in a blissful expression. He pressed play until he could see her face. First he could see her nose, small, low, and pointed, then her lips, luscious and rosy. Next her cheeks came into view, a smooth pink from exhilaration.

And his mouth dropped open.

Her eyes opened. A familiar, startling emerald, clear and like liquid stones, they stared right into the sky.

And as he paused and leaned backwards in his chair, his mouth opened still wider, and he nearly slapped himself in the face for not realizing it sooner.

It was Kinomoto Sakura.

But, somehow, it wasn't her.

She was smiling, laughing; she didn't have baggy cargo pants on and a shapeless sweater.

She was beautiful.

And Syaoran moaned, flicking off the video, and he stumbled out of the room, that image of the free, happy Sakura burned forever into his brain, and he went upstairs and flung himself onto his bed, and screamed into his pillow frustratedly like a fifth grader.

"What's wrong with me?"

* * *

**Oh ew. SOMEONE's a perv.**

**I think I've got a pretty good idea of where this is going. It's going to have a lot of sub-plots, so I'm guessing around 15-20 chaps, longer than anything I've done before. **

**Thanks for reading! Thanks even more for reviewing or alerting or all that jazz! (Smiley face) **

**Gollum Rent Phreak**


	4. Chapter 4

**The Artist: Chapter 4**

**First off, a humongous thank you to 'the original rubber duckie', who warned me against plot plagiarism. I read the first chapter, and it was amazingly similar to my story! Shock! Horror! They invaded my brain! But luckily, as I read on, this plot is going to be very different from that. But thanks, T.O.R.D, because who knows? I might have done the same thing, basically…? And how disastrous THAT would have been, we shall never know. Lawl. That story has more reviews than mine, anyhow, so it must not be THAT similar…, right?**

**So thanks. Yeah, um, let's get along with big thanks yous!**

**New alertists: fmachtc1fan, Rayoshi Yazuki, and JennyKim319. Wonderful special people, I love you all! In a completely platonic, non-stalker-y way, of course.**

**New faves: Rayoshi Yazuki! I love you, in that same non-stalker way.**

**And of course, all the reviewers: (hands out choccies and hugs) Butterfle, JennyKim319, Rukz, Musette Fujiwara, Buttercuptenshi, The Original Rubber Duckie (lawl, still so excited about getting to type that name… rotfl), misunderstandings, Rayoshi Yazuki, Rawritskim, and waitingforjudgement.**

**A few random review replies:**

**Rawritskim: Lol… that's poor pathetic Syaoran, all right.**

**Rukz: … (Mysterious)**

**Misunderstandings: heh, heh, heh… yes. It is. You're right.**

**And a big giant humongo HUG for everyone! I'll shut up now; this is taking quite a bit of room…**

**Actually, from now on, only the A/N will be at the top. All the review stuff will be at the bottom… next to that inviting little purple button that says 'go'.**

**Here we go… **

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Syaoran sat at the lunch table, squished uncomfortably, as usual, next to the Kudo twins. He nudged Takai over slightly to get more room.

"Hey, look who's not in her tree today?" Tomoyo exclaimed.

All six heads instantly turned to seek out the doer of this deed. Zinan pointed.

"You're right," he said quietly. "She's actually sitting at a table today."

"Heh, did she finally consider the effect of all that bark on her clothes?" Aiko pondered, shaking back her long hair and adjusting her shirt… if you could call the tiny amount of material a shirt.

"I doubt it. She has no fashion sense," Meri argued, eyeing Sakura's usual ensemble of black, gray, brown, and white. "… it looks like she's colorblind or something."

"Have you ever seen her wear anything that's on the rainbow? Maybe she's emo," said Takai, and mimed slitting his wrists to the mirth of the others.

"Emo people shouldn't exist. How could you get depressed enough to hurt yourself?" said Syaoran. "I mean, it's like, either kill yourself or don't, stop whining about it." Murmurs of agreement went around the table.

"Seriously, at least gothic people have, like, principles and stuff," said Meri. "Maybe she's a goth! She doesn't cut herself, right?"

Syaoran looked from side to side uncomfortably. This was awkward.

"She _is_ pretty in the gothic way," mused Tomoyo, "but seriously, she needs to open her eyes. I saw a totally cute shirt at Macy's. Maybe if she wore something decent she wouldn't look so geeky," she considered. Takai, Meri, and Aiko turned slowly to look at her.

"_Pretty?_" Takai said incredulously. "That _slut?_" At this, Zinan, Syaoran, and Tomoyo turned to look at him uneasily. Meri and Aiko continued chatting among themselves, nodding in agreement to Takai's statement automatically.

"By the way, Zee," Tomoyo said, using a pet name used by the Group for Zinan, "_was_ she flirting with you in Civics?"

"No…" he replied, rolling his eyes. "I was helping her with an assignment. Stupid Yamazaki-sensei gave us this ballot thing, and the paper was really, really badly written."

"Man, who knew that Yamazaki-sensei could spawn such an attractive male?" Aiko said flirtatiously, looking over at the table where the skaters sat. Takashi Yamazaki was tall, with dark hair, and looked serious, but in actuality, was cheerful- almost annoyingly so. His entire wardrobe seemed ripped from skating into trees, and also from when his girlfriend of years, Chiharu, yanked him around behind her skateboard for telling lies.

"He's hot, yeah, I guess, but he's not my type," Tomoyo said, eyeing Yamazaki like she would look at a piece of furniture. Suddenly she oozed with enthusiasm. "You know who's REALLY hot?"

"Who?" The other two girls leaned in, as if a deadly secret was soon to be revealed. Tomoyo smirked, and to everyone's surprise, blushed slightly, tossing her dark hair so it caught the light.

"Kinomoto Eriol," she said, smiling and licking her lips. "Mmmmm! He's such a sex god."

"Oh Kami-sama, YES," Aiko agreed, like she did with everything Tomoyo said. "He's so tall… and did you see those muscles?"

"God…" Meri sighed and looked into space. "I want him…"

The three males looked at each other, then the girls.

"Who the hell is God, Meri? And what are we supposed to do, agree with you about Kinomoto?!" Syaoran said in annoyance.

"Well, if you were gay, then technically, I suppose you could…" Takai trailed off suggestively, and his brother shoved him.

Tomoyo tucked her hair behind one ear, pushing a gold and silver hairband further up her brow. Her pale skin shone radiantly, two spots of pink on her cheeks as she envisioned Eriol. She adjusted her huge white-gold hoop earrings, reapplied lip gloss hurriedly, and slapped some powder on her cheeks. "He's coming in…" she checked her pinpoint digital watch. "approximately two minutes."

Aiko pulled out a large handbag, rummaging through wads of money carelessly to get to a mirror. She handed it to Tomoyo, who took it automatically, looked at her reflection, and then tossed it back at her. Meri looked at her. "Might want just a little more red on the left," she suggested.

Once again, the guys were left staring.

"Um," Zinan said, "anyway…"

"Oh, Kami-sama. Don't you have to do a project with Kinomoto?" Takai groaned, as if he was the one who had to do it. Immediately the girls stopped fawning ridiculously over Tomoyo and listened to the conversation, once again in rapt attention at the prospect of talking about Sakura some more.

"Yeah," Syaoran said brusquely.

"God, what a whore. Can't believe she had her own brother. That's just sick… ew…"

"Yeah. In eighth grade, too? I'll bet she got him blamed for it, too."

"How many boyfriends is it now?"

"Isn't it, like, twenty?"

Syaoran moved guiltily in his seat. "It is kind of a pain doing a project with her," he said, with a confident trademark smirk plastered onto his face. "I mean, she has to come over to my house and stuff. It's awkward."

His head was finally starting to divide the rumors that were true and those that were fabricated. He knew that she wasn't a slut, if she hadn't tried to hit on Zinan after all. She was definitely an enigma, if nothing else.

"She hasn't, like, tried to make a move, has she?" gasped Meri.

"No…?" he replied.

"Good…" Tomoyo said.

"Because if she had," Meri added, "We'd have to…"

"Kill her…" the three girls said menacingly, and then, looking at each other, broke into a fit of giggles.

"Just be careful, yeah?" Takai said, suspiciously glancing from side to side. "Just in case…"

"Dude, you're paranoid," said Syaoran.

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Sakura enjoyed sitting with the skaters for a day. They'd let her sit with them grudgingly at first, but she quickly got to know them. She settled in and listened to their conversations, relaxing.

"I hate my parents," Rika Sasaki moaned, swirling her fork around in a bowl of mashed tapioca. "Yuck…"

"I feel for you," Keiji Yamamoto agreed, peering at the mushy mass. He stroked her hair, done up in two large pigtails, and kissed her cheek randomly. She turned her head to catch his lips in hers, and they locked face. Sakura blinked blankly, and turned to the others. Chiharu was sucking face with Yamazaki, but Naoko was calmly reading.

"Naoko, right?" Sakura asked.

"Yeah," she said in a husky voice. "What?"

"Do they always do this?" Sakura gesticulated.

"Um, yeah… I get used to it. I brought Freud and Sartre today. They're not bad, you should read their philosophy – fascinating stuff, I tell you," she said, sounding decidedly old-fashioned.

Sakura nodded, pretending to understand, and then spotted Eriol coming up to her table.

"I never asked," Eriol started, as Sakura got up and waved bye to Naoko. "How was your little work assignment with Li?"

"Meh, not bad. He agreed to not be an idiot when we're doing a project, so average," she responded. "He's not that bad one on one, but he's still a total… what's the word? Man whore."

"Well, not bad is something, right?"

As they walked by the prep tables, Takai glared venomously at Sakura, Syaoran looked pointedly in the other direction, and Meri and Aiko eyed her pityingly, whispering to each other but keeping their eyes locked on her openly. Tomoyo, on the other hand, was looking at Eriol, who was gazing at her distractedly like he was looking at an angel. Sakura noted enviously that Daidouji looked positively breathtaking, her soft skin and dark hair contrasting startlingly.

"Eriol? Come on…" Sakura hissed, steering him away.

Eriol blinked once he was outside the lunch room and leaned against the wall.

"Oh… Kami-sama…" he said softly.

"What?"

"Daidouji! She's … gorgeous… And she looked at me!" he said excitedly. Sakura rolled her eyes.

"You only just noticed?"

"Um, well, I'm not exactly best buddies with her, you know?" Eriol said.

Sakura smiled pityingly and waved goodbye to Eriol as he went off to his class.

"Man, math sucks," Sakura heard someone say. She turned and saw Syaoran right there, talking to Aiko.

"Tell me about it…" she said, looking at Syaoran from under her long eyelashes, licking her lips like she did so often. The two broke away from the ocean of students and stood at the ramp.

"I will, after school…" he said seductively, then turned and shoved her against the cinderblocks, leaning in and roughly seizing her lips in a fiery kiss. Sakura shook her head, tempted to hack loudly with disgust, as he shortened the distance between the two. Only Syaoran could turn "Math sucks" into a make-out session. She felt a kind of cold sensation in the pit of her stomach. He wasn't even going out with Aiko. _I mean, what the hell?! He's so… ERGH! _She hurried off to class.

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Syaoran pulled Aiko into a corner, away from the rush of students. He pushed her against the wall and once again captured her mouth, moving back and forth as she slipped her tongue in-between his lips. He closed his eyes for the familiar tingling sensation of pleasure, but instead he saw a vision of a girl skating down a street, innocently flinging her arms wide to the heavens. Syaoran suddenly pulled back from the kiss.

"Gotta go. You know the teacher," he said tersely, and stalked off, just like that. She only smirked, picked up her bag, winked at him, and left.

"See you after school, Syaoran-kun," she said.

Syaoran breathed, and turned to a wall. He pressed his forehead into the cinderblocks and closed his eyes, blocking out the cold fluorescent light. His head pounded and he opened his eyes. Checking his watch, he saw that he was already five minutes late.

"SHIT!"

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Syaoran slowly slipped into his seat, sighing as he realized that the teacher hadn't even noticed that he was late.

"Lucky, huh?" Sakura said darkly from in front of him. He was about to chuckle, but stopped, instead jabbing her in the back with a pencil. She winced and twitched, then turned around, narrowing her eyes.

"Perhaps you would care to tell us the answer, then?" said a ringing voice from the front of the class. Sakura snapped back to attention, and surveyed the question on the board hastily.

"Cosine of eight," Syaoran hissed suddenly, not really knowing why he was helping her.

"Cosine of eight!" Sakura blurted.

The teacher narrowed his eyes at her. "Correct…"

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"I am giving you extra math homework, Kinomoto. I sense that not only do you dislike math, you also do not pay attention. You are lazy, Kinomoto. Lazy," exclaimed Suzuki-sensei.

"Hai, sensei…" Sakura said boredly, flicking a piece of dirt off one of her nails idly and taking the worksheet he brandished at her like he was holding a weapon. She looked down it and her eyes widened. There were over a hundred problems on it, each one long and full of symbols.

"You will also stay after school and do these worksheets for a week. You see, I know perfectly well that your brother is an amazing math student. If he gives you the answers, it won't help you in any way, shape, or manner. You will stay."

Sakura's jaw dropped.

"Sorry, sensei, but I've got enough sh-crap to do for you slav-…teachers already. Come on, I've got three essays due by Friday and a project due in three weeks. You can't… you can't make me stay after school!"

"Actually, you'll find I can," he replied, sneering blatantly in a most unprofessional way.

"No!" she protested.

Sakura sat nonchalantly at her desk at five o'clock, staring miserably at the last problem. She scribbled in an answer and stood up.

"There," she grumbled temperamentally, shoving the paper onto his desk roughly. He looked up at her, her eyes narrowed at him.

He waved absentmindedly. She exited swiftly.

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Sitting in her bed, she slapped her forehead. She had forgotten to draw one of the Group that day. She picked up a canvas, and thought, and thought, but the usual images did not carve themselves in front of her eyes as usual. Frustrated, she threw down the brush and went into Eriol's room. The pair of them talked for a while.

"So, hear any new rumors about me lately?" Sakura asked, lazily lying on Eriol's bed and shooting a yo-yo into the air repeatedly. Eriol strummed on his electric guitar, the chords echoing.

"Nah. Maybe Li didn't feel like taking the energy to today," he said, and hit a vibrating g-chord. He motioned for Sakura to play the drum set in the corner. Eriol turned on a bass guitar recording for 'Holiday', his new favorite song, and Sakura played the drums part as Eriol sang and played guitar. Sakura had a nice voice, but definitely didn't have what it would take to be a professional. Eriol, on the other hand, played six instruments and sang. His low tenor voice had a beautiful scratch to it that befitted a star perfectly. He wanted to start a band, but had no one else to play with but Sakura.

Eriol sang through the whole of 'Holiday', hitting the chords ferociously and bringing out the solo, then said homage to Green Day and unplugged his electric guitar. He went over to the keyboard and started to play a song he had written.

Sakura smiled. Eriol was such a great brother, she thought happily as she looked around the room at all his music. The guitar in the corner had been Eriol's life savings up until two years ago. Fujitaka had played the keyboard, so Eriol had taken that, and during the day he played on the piano downstairs.

Under the bed was a beat-up old saxophone that he'd gotten second-hand, and in the drawer of the bedside table was a flute that Eriol had bought off one of his middle school friends who had moved. Eriol's middle-school clarinet wasn't used much anymore, but when he felt like doing so he occasionally he tootled a tune on it. And although Sakura mainly played the drums for Eriol, he sometimes did them himself. He truly was a music junkie.

She had told him once that he should go to Juilliard. He only laughed and said that college was a waste of a life for a rock star.

"Sakura, you should go to bed," he said, turning with a kind smile on his face.

And she went to bed.

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Syaoran laid outside in a large hammock, gazing up at the stars, a more pensive activity than he usually participated in. The endless sky twinkled with stars that outdid the streetlights in brilliance, a feat in itself compared to the glaring fluorescent bulbs. He thought he heard a faint murmur among the trees' leaves, but he caught no words, and, suddenly drained, he dropped off to sleep right there, with the faint scent of a flower in his nostrils.

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**Extremely booooooring chapter, but it's introducing a couple of new things… and it shows the first day after Syaoran sees Sak-sak's other side.**

**Gollum Rent Phreak**


	5. Chapter 5

**The Artist- Chapter 5**

**Hey!!! Sup?**

**I'll tell you sup with me…**

**I'M SO HAPPY! So many reviews…? And yay yay yayyyyyyyyyyyy… but I'm also feeling crappy cause I went to bed at like 2:30 and had to get up at 8:30… ugh. Not to mention the fact that my effing wireless connection's being a bitch again and I can't get on to thank all the wonderful reviewers… Maybe it'll be up by the time I finish the chapter. **

**I don't know about the chapter estimation anymore. 20 sounds about good, but we'll see, eh? (grin)**

**I might be taking some stuff from things I thought were funny like in movies or stuff, but I'll inform you when and that I don't own. **

**Gollum Rent Phreak**

**P.S.: Thanks to Rukz and Waitingforjudgement for their info on how to make an arrow!**

**P.P.S.: Sorry if I frequently insert lol, lawl, or rotfl (rolling on the floor laughing). I actually say them out loud, too… lawl… see?! There I go again! But anyway, just be warned, if you haven't already gotten used to it.**

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Sakura sat in the boughs of the tree, watching Tomoyo Daidouji intently, holding a piece of canvas. She had decided to do a charcoal drawing of Daidouji.

Holding the charcoal sideways, she sketched the head shape, and lightly shaded the hair above. She turned one more time, and saw the perfect picture. At that moment, Tomoyo's eyes were closed, and she was laughing. Her pearly teeth shone radiantly, and a gemstone hairclip accented the beautiful necklace and earrings dangling from her person. Sakura quickly made a note of the position of her head, and fixed the drawing.

From there, the image moved smoothly. Tomoyo's eyes formed on the picture, perfectly squinted, and her nose took shape soon after, dainty and slightly upturned, the rays of the sun casting long shadows from her eyelashes, nose, and mouth.

Sakura held up the drawing critically, examining it from every angle. Deeming it worthy, she faded the edges like Zinan's picture and stuffed it in a plastic-wrap container so the charcoal wouldn't smudge. Sakura inserted the picture in her bag. She slowly shimmied down the tree and hopped over the wall.

"Hey! Over here!" Chiharu called. Sakura grinned and scooted over to the table.

"Hey, Mihara-san," she responded.

"Sup?" Yamazaki asked.

"Nothing much, Yamazaki-sensei. I mean, Yamazaki-kun! Aaah! It's so confusing!"

"Hey, we're all friends here. She's Chiharu-chan, Naoko-chan, Rika-chan, I'm Takashi-kun, and he's Keiji-kun," Yamazaki said. "It is perfectly fine – did you know that 'chan' and 'kun' originated from ancient names? Kun was a little boy, Chan was a little girl, San and Sama were their guardians, and Sensei was their old, wise teacher?"

"He's lying," said Chiharu, unimpressed. "And he's had better ones before. This calls for a good throttle, I think." With that, she started to choke him. He laughed.

"…thanks?" Sakura replied.

"Why are you always in that tree?" Keiji asked.

"Oh… I just like to draw there. It clears my mind," she said.

"Cool! Can I see some of your stuff?" Rika asked.

"Sure," Sakura said, surprised. Even before the rumors, no one had ever asked to see her art.

She tugged out her picture of Tomoyo.

"Whoa…" the five huddled over the drawing.

"You're kidding, right? You didn't, like, really draw this, right?" Naoko looked up at Sakura, eyes wide with admiration.

"Um, hai, I did… Here's another…" Flattered, she took her picture of Zinan and stacked it on top of Tomoyo. "This is my signature," she said, indicating a small pen mark in the top right corner.

"Are you like a professional or something?" Chiharu said, awed.

"No, it's just my hobby."

"Why do you draw _them_, though?" Yamazaki said, blowing his hair out of his eyes and frowning slightly.

"Well, it sounds kind of dumb, but I want to draw their good side, so I'll never forget they have one," Sakura replied, blushing.

"Hm. Good idea," Chiharu conceded. "I suppose that's one way you could try to do that… hard, though."

"Hey, will you draw one of me?" Rika asked.

"Um, I guess…" Sakura said awkwardly.

"And me!" Naoko said, soon followed by Yamazaki.

"Uh… ah…? Yeah! Sure, um, I guess…" Sakura was overwhelmed.

"By the way, Kinomoto, there's a party at my house tonight. Six to whenever people leave. A ton of people are going to be there. Come?" Yamazaki said.

"…sure."

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"Hey, look! She got herself a group!" Takai sneered, pointing at Sakura.

"That's new," Aiko simpered.

"Hey, did you hear that she-" Meri started.

"I need to use a computer," Syaoran suddenly interrupted. "I'll be in the library. Computer seventeen." He got up and left, leaping over the back of the blue plasticine lunch seat to the exit.

"Computer seventeen" was a code only used by Syaoran and Tomoyo. When the two had broken up, they had become best friends, and had resolved to keep some things only between the two of them.

Syaoran skulked near the non-fiction section of the high school's huge library.

"What's up?" Tomoyo asked.

"It's Kinomoto," he muttered, sitting down against the bookcase.

"Having second thoughts?" Tomoyo nodded. "Guilt? Shame? Et cetera?"

"What are you, my shrink? But… yeah," he sighed.

"How long?" Tomoyo questioned.

"A couple of days, ever since she came over to do that history project," he replied. "I've been lacking reasons to continue hating her. I mean, I always thought she was like kinda stuck up and a show-off, but either she's not anymore, or she, like, never was."

"Ah, yes, the fading rivalry thing," Tomoyo pondered. "Well… what do you think you should do? Obviously, you can't pretend to hate someone."

"I don't know, that's why I asked you," Syaoran snapped.

"Well, sor-ree," Tomoyo responded. "But I mean, you can't really stop them. Those rumors are already everywhere but the skating clique and… Eriol." At the last word, her eyes glazed over and she sighed a high, girly sigh.

"Great. I just sealed her fate for the rest of her high school life. Great job," Syaoran murmured to himself.

"I think the best you can do is make a statement," Tomoyo said. "Like, of non-hatingness."

"A statement? Wait, 'hatingness'? Is that even a word?" Syaoran said, snorting with laughter.

"Yeah. Of you, like, not hating her anymore. It'll be a pretty high risk, because the gossip's already there and junk, and everyone might just, like, end up hating you instead of stop talking about her," Tomoyo said. "But, I mean, it's the best you've got."

"How should I say it?"

"I don't know, Syaoran. Just- hell, be a little original."

"Oh, and do you want me to put in a word for you to Kinomoto Eriol?"

"Really?" Tomoyo meeped with excitement.

"You betcha," he said.

"Thanks!" Checking her watch, she exclaimed, "Shit! I'm late for art!" She scrambled up and dashed out of the library, ignoring the scratchy reprimand of the tottering, ancient librarian.

Syaoran followed, ambling across the hall to his next class.

_History Class_

"Thank you for choosing to join us, Li-san. Take a seat."

Syaoran blushed and drooped into his seat, uncharacteristically non-smirky.

"You will have class time today to work on your extremely large projects which are due in two and a half weeks and will be worth five test grades. Capiche?"

"Capiche," chorused the class, and immediately the students migrated to sit near their partners.

"Hello," Syaoran said uncomfortably. Sakura waved, seemingly at ease.

"We should, you know, probably okay the whole sword-fighting thing with sensei," Sakura suggested.

"Yeah," Syaoran replied, and got up. The two walked down the aisle. **(LAWL it's a pun! Get it?!)**

"Yes, Miss Kinomoto?" The teacher said, completely ignoring Syaoran.

"Hai, sensei, we were wondering if it would be okay if we did a weapons demonstration, because of the Chinese ancient swordfighters."

Sakura bit her lip as the teacher considered for a long while.

"I'll have to move all the desks back about ten feet, and get permission from the principal, but it sounds like it's sure to be spectacular. Yes. You may," she confirmed, eyes scanning their innocent faces. "As long as you don't kill each other. Blood on the classroom floor is not permitted."

Sakura and Syaoran returned to their desks.

"Yessss!" Sakura cheered quietly.

"So, what do we need to work on?" Syaoran asked, his dark eyes scanning her face.

"Well, I'm going to work on the visual, while listening to Weird Al. Have fun writing boring stuff," she chuckled, plugging an iPod into her ears.

Syaoran looked at her bemusedly, listening to her lightly singing "eBay".

"A Pac man Fever lunch box… a case of vintage tube sox, wanna buy a Kleenex ™ used by Doctor Dre… found it, on eBay," she hummed softly. He smiled and took out a few sheets of essay. She paused the song.

"I thought that you finished the essay," she said, confused.

"Thirty pages? I always knew you thought I was a genius, but even I can't write thirty pages in like an hour," Syaoran said.

"THIRTY FUCKING—"

"Shut up!" he hissed.

"I thought it was THREE!" she hissed back.

Syaoran let out a short, bark-like laugh. "Now, do you really expect sensei to be that lenient?" he chortled, laughing as much at her horrified face as at the miscommunication.

"Hm, I suppose you're right," she said, still looking bewildered.

"You look cute when you're confused," he said, then clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Hm?" she said, pausing her iPod once more. Syaoran breathed as he realized that her music had been blasting as he had said that.

"You going to the party tonight?" he asked, casting around for ideas and pretending that that had been what he had said.

"Yeah," she said, totally surprising Syaoran. The skaters must've invited her, he mused.

"Cool," he responded, and continued writing.

Sakura kept shading in a bold title and pressed the Play button. He peered over at it surreptitiously and saw a perfect picture of a Chinese soldier, with a background of flying weapons, each one labeled and colored. He turned back to his essay, scowling with slight jealousy that was, bizarrely, tempered by the lack of hatred he felt now.

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"ERIOLLLLLLLLL!" Sakura flung herself on her brother once they were inside the house.

"Hey, you're happy. What's up?"

"I'm going to a PARTY!!"

"Oh, really? The one at Yamazaki's?"

"Yeah!" she bounced up and down. "And guess who asked me if I was going?" she said, stopping bouncing and looking baffled.

"Dunno."

"Li," she informed him. He looked sideways at her.

"Okay… that is weird… You wanna go and get some clothes for the party? Didn't you, like, burn all your old ones or something?"

Sakura smirked and nodded. "They'd be too small now anyway. I mean, even if they weren't burned and stuff."

Eriol smiled queasily. "Um, that's nice. Let's go."

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"Oh, this is nice!" Sakura held up a black garment slightly different than the black garment she had held up a few moments ago.

"How about choosing something with some color, Sak?" Eriol sighed.

"Man, color's boring," she protested.

Eriol steered her over to a rack with colorful clothes on it.

"Here! This is nice!" he said, holding up a long red and black v-neck shirt with a black band around the middle, accompanied by a pink knee-length skirt.

"Hm. I'll only wear it if you let me wear tights," she bargained.

He rolled his eyes and nodded, following meekly to the tights corner. She took a pair of tights that were creamy-colored with light blue stripes down the side. Smiling, she entered the dressing room. The young guy at the desk handed her a sign and waved her by, hardly looking at her.

She changed into the shirt and skirt, tugging the tights on, and exited back out into the store to seek out Eriol. A few guys just stopped and looked at her, eyes following her until she was behind a rack which she dashed behind uneasily.

Eriol stared at her.

"Sak, do you know you look completely different?" he asked, amazed that different clothes could make his sister look so unusual.

She looked down. She could actually see her boobs for a change, her figure was visible, and her butt wasn't smothered by cargo pants.

"Yeah, I guess," Sakura agreed. "Actually, I don't want the tights after all. They don't go."

She went to the changing rooms, and this time, the guy at the desk looked at her. With a very, very startled expression. His eyes wandered down below her face, and before the gaze could get any lower, she glared at him menacingly, snatched a plastic card disgustedly and shoved past him to the changing rooms, regaining the baggy clothes she loved.

Sakura bought the clothes and she returned home with Eriol, who still seemed shocked for some reason. Jeez, her brother could be so shallow sometimes. Awesome, but shallow, she reflected.

At 5:00, Sakura washed her hair and attempted to style it.

"SAKURA! STOP MANGLING YOUR HAIR!" Eriol screeched, running into the room as soon as he heard the hairdryer.

Eriol was a hairdresser.

He tutted at the state of her hair, undoing the hair-tie she had put in and taking out assorted bottles of lotion from under the bathroom sink.

"You know, just cause it's always up, doesn't mean you can't take care of it," he said reproachfully. Without time for Sakura to protest, he hacked off about six inches of her soft honey-colored hair and layered it swiftly. He parted the front perfectly and adjusted the length of her bangs so that they started near her ears and ended at the outside corners of her eyes. Then he pulled the back into an elegant knot and sprayed it with a wonderful-smelling concoction.

Sakura smiled at the girl in the mirror, dressed in a totally different outfit, with a flawless hairdo, and even a few faint signs of makeup.

"By the way, I got these for you," Eriol said mischievously, holding out a pair of shoes and a pair of earrings. The shoes were a lightly shimmering pale pink, with one-inch heels and straps that laced around her small feet. The earrings were beautiful, round jade disks. She slipped on the shoes and gasped. They were squishy, filled with gel that conformed to her feet. She giggles and squished her toes up and down childishly.

"Eriol, you shouldn't have… how are we going to eat for the next couple days?! What with your meager pay and all…" she jibed.

"Ha. Ha. Don't mock a guy with scissors," he said, snipping air menacingly. She laughed and retreated to her room to paint for the forty-five minutes left before they had to leave, feeling, for the first time in a while, pretty.

The two suddenly felt like they had before it happened, happy and cheerful, joking, laughing. They felt like they had before Touya had died, and left them in a shadow of sadness.

Their euphoria was unmatched by their previous moods for the past year.

Sakura painted.

She painted a sunrise. A dawning of a new day.

Eriol cranked up the volume on '99 Red Balloons' and slammed out the chords.

* * *

**Next chapter: The Party! This should be fun!**

**Yay, yay, YAY! TWELVE REVIEWS IN A DAY! I TOTALLY HEART YOU DUDES!**

**And dudettes. But that word's not as cool. So yeah.**

**Acknowledgements! **

**All youse alertists ROCK: Boheme, attina, ccs's cherry blossom, ccsinuyashaloveraa, and IamellaNOT! Meep, you get a happypill… a new invention I patented. It's not a drug! It's just a pill! And you eat it and become happy! And they're not addictive! W00t! Of course, they're only available if you review, fave-ify, or alert this story. Limited supply offer. Blah blah.**

**All youse favoritists ROCK: Kero Star, anylm, ccs's cherry blossom, and the original rubber duckie. **

**And, of course, my favorite people ever, REVIEWERS!!!**

**The Original Rubber Duckie, Rukz, Butterfle, Musette Fujiwara, ccs's cherry blossom, Buttercuptenshi, misunderstandings, Boheme, FFxKHxLove, alexchan, and… Rawritskim. **

**Thank you thank you thank you!!! **

**Random replies:**

**Buttercuptenshi: Don't worry, the biyatches'll get what's comin'. **

**Butterfle: Ah, the Touya thing will be explained in much depth in later chapters, its effect on Sakura, the family, and even Eriol.**

**Rawritskim: Heh heh heh… me too… Sakura's a little like me, actually.**

**Misunderstandings: D'you have a DeviantART profile? I 3 DeviantART!**

**BYE!! School's starting, so this will be the last update for more than a day, at least… LAWLZ. LOL. ROTFL!!!**

**BYE! You're my best friends! (How pathetic is that?! Lawl.)**

**GollumRentPhreak**


	6. Chapter 6

**The Artist- Chapter 6**

**Okay. I'm trying to write this, okay? Wow, it's been simply ages since I even looked at this story. I'm just gonna take a deep breath and dive right in.**

_**(P.S.: Secret: before the New Year, me! Hurry! In chapter one, there are exactly 2006 words. How clever am I… and none of you guessed! I expected you to count every word! (Lie) lol… just thought it might be a fun tidbit. Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, Joyous Kwanzaa, Gleeful Ramadan, etc., etc.… and a happy New Year to you all!)**_

**Gollum**

* * *

Sakura sat stiffly in Eriol's car, nervous to the gut.

"Jeez! Calm down!" said Eriol with a grin.

"I refuse," Sakura replied coldly, jittering up and down.

"Is this the place?" Eriol asked, banging his hand onto Sakura's shoulder and flattening all jiggling that was occurring.

Sakura looked out the window. She saw a huge apartment building erupting from the pavement, and all the lights on in the top story, which was undoubtedly a massive penthouse.

"Um-hum," Sakura confirmed. Eriol parked the car and the two hopped out, Sakura wobbling slightly on her heels.

Sakura pushed the apartment block door open tentatively and opened an elevator for them. She pressed the number 19 on the panel tentatively and the elevator skyrocketed upwards, making her stomach sink into her legs. Soon they were stepping out into a tiny room with a coffee table and magazines, like a reception area. Eriol opened the door into the party, which hit them suddenly and loudly, like a large SUV with lights on.

There was a large disco ball sending spinning jets of light to highlight different, random faces whirling on the dance floor. Many people were dancing badly on the light-up plastic square floor to 'Yeah', embarrassingly so.

"Oh, man. Bad music," groaned Eriol as Usher sang.

"It's not that bad," said Sakura. "At least it's not 'My Humps'. Now that's bad music." At this, of course, the song ended and 'My Humps' started. Both parties groaned, and Sakura turned to see Takashi Yamazaki standing right there with a bottle of … something in his hand.

"Hey! When'd you get here?" he asked brightly, with only a hint of a slur in his voice. Sakura and Eriol could smell a slight touch of alcohol on his breath.

"Oh, just now," Eriol spoke loudly over the blaring music.

"The food's in the next room," Takashi said back and melted into the crowd.

The room smelled of heat, sweat, and tense excitement. Sakura felt her nerves uncurling to sink into the music. Someone in the middle of the floor was break-dancing amid wild cheering. Sakura recognized him to be Takai Kudo. She could also see his brother standing at the edge of the room, looking unimpressed.

She followed Eriol into the other room. On the table were a few cases of beer, along with some non-alcoholic drinks. She snatched a cup of Sprite, sniffed it cautiously, held it up to the light suspiciously, and downed it after a few more seconds of careful scrutiny.

Eriol had drifted away. Sakura grinned at the fact that he trusted her enough to leave her alone at a party.

She turned and gasped. She was standing face to face with Li Syaoran.

"Hey, uh, you just get here?" she asked, wondering if he had drunk any alcohol. He looked good, she thought only slightly reluctantly, his messy hair slung over one eye, his t-shirt showing his muscles.

"Yeah, just about," he replied, smiling a dazzling smile at her.

Then Syaoran looked at what she was wearing, stunned.

"Erm, new clothes?" he asked, leading her back into the dance room to sit on a leather couch where a few other people were sitting and talking.

"Um, yeah," she replied, blushing a blush that went unnoticed in the dark of the room.

"They look nice. You look nice. Really nice," Syaoran said before he could stop himself.

Sakura's face shaded a deeper red. "Thanks," she whispered.

Syaoran rubbed the back of his neck with a hand. Sakura stared at her hands.

Noticing Tomoyo sitting right next to him, Syaoran jumped.

"Tomo!"

"Um, yeah… I've kinda been here for, like, five minutes. Hey, Kinomoto," Tomoyo said, greeting Sakura.

"Um, hi, Daidouji," Sakura said, eyes round with surprise at the greeting.

"I'm not gonna bite you, Kinomoto…" Tomoyo grinned. Sakura's tensed shoulders relaxed a tiny bit.

"Daidouji, Li, I'd like you to meet my brother," Sakura said, noting Eriol standing at her elbow. "Eriol Kinomoto. Eriol, Li, Daidouji."

Eriol merely stared at Tomoyo for a moment. Her dress was beautiful, loose and tight in all the right places, but he didn't care about the dress- it was only a piece of cloth on the gorgeous girl sitting there. Her amethyst eyes shone into his, and she smiled a small smile.

"Um, konnichiwa, Daidouji-san," he stammered.

"Konnichiwa, Kinomoto-san," she replied.

Syaoran and Sakura shot mischievous glances at one another, watching both Tomoyo and Eriol being nervous. They stood up and walked into the other room.

Eriol sat down next to Tomoyo.

"I like your dress," he stuttered.

"Thanks," she said, "I made it."

"You _what?_" he spluttered. "Really?! Do you work anywhere? Are you a professional?"

Tomoyo chortled into her Mountain Dew.

"Nah, it's just a hobby," she chuckled. "I do it for fun."

"Wow," Eriol breathed softly. "Daidouji, do-"

"Please, Kinomoto-san, call me Tomoyo."

"Then you must call me Eriol… Tomoyo."

"Heh. Heh. My evil plot is working," murmured Sakura. "Does she really like my brother, Li-san?"

"Yeah, and for a long time, too," Syaoran replied, sitting down on a small loveseat. "She, like, counts down the minutes until he walks out of the lunchroom. It's kinda awkward for us guys when they, like, talk about boys and make-up and stuff."

"Move over," Sakura commanded, still watching Eriol and Tomoyo. Syaoran shifted over to allow Sakura to sit next to him. He looked over at Sakura's face, which was flushed a little from excitement, and blushed slightly.

"So."

"So."

"I'm, uh, sorry about, hem, telling people stuff, about, er, you…" he stuttered.

"Just, don't anymore, and they'll probably die. I hope," she said, trying to appear optimistic.

"So."

"Um, do you, um," he said, trailing off.

"Yeah?" Sakura asked, turning so her face was mere inches from his.

"Do you want to dance?" Syaoran invited, his dark eyes flickering with the sparse light. Her eyelids blinked slowly, her long eyelashes shading her emerald eyes for moments at a time. Then she inclined her head in a tiny nod, a small smile splitting her lips.

Syaoran moved onto the dance floor, slowly starting to move his body to the music. Sakura stood next to him, just standing awkwardly, watching him.

"Dance, dammit!" Syaoran yelled over the music.

"I don't dance!" Sakura shouted back.

"Yes you do," Syaoran insisted, and grabbed her wrists, pulling her into a dance with him. The dark air was hot and they could feel each other's breaths. Syaoran grinned encouragingly as his face came within an inch of hers. She smiled back. They danced, moving their heated bodies along in time to everyone else's. Sakura still felt awkward among all these people, but tried to dance as best she could. She was out of practice, not having been to a party in years, but she felt her body creak back into practice and slip into the music's beat.

Sakura danced with Syaoran for a while, which felt strange. She looked over at Eriol a few times. She noticed that he and Tomoyo had moved considerably closer, and were talking and joking as if they'd been friends for years. She slipped off the dance floor to get another drink, tired. Syaoran followed her.

"Hey, why'd you stop? You're a good dancer," he said.

"I'm tired," she replied. "Haven't danced in ages."

"Why not?"

"Haven't been invited to a party in ages, duh," she said as she gulped down more Sprite.

"Chiharu-chan!"

"Sakura-chan, how's it going?" said Chiharu, standing next to Yamazaki.

"Not bad," she said. "I danced some, talked some, you know."

"Yep, yep. Just watch out for the spiked drinks."

"Wait. Is the Sprite spiked?" Sakura said sharply.

"Don't think so. Just the Dr. Pepper," said Yamazaki.

Sakura sighed in relief. Syaoran choked and spat out his drink.

"What, you have a low alcohol tolerance or something, Li?" Sakura teased.

"Yeah," he said. "And it's bad for reaction time and stuff."

"And your brain, liver, and it increases chance of heart attacks," added Sakura.

"Seriously?" Syaoran yelped.

"Better believe it," said Sakura seriously.

The pair found the time flying by. Sakura even forgot to look over at Eriol, and so missed the fact that he was dancing vigorously with Tomoyo. They seemed to have no end of topics to discuss, from politics to sports to talking about possible past lives.

Just as Syaoran invited Sakura onto the floor for another dance, there was a slow song. (A/N: Mwahaha.)

Syaoran, for the first time in a while, blushed dark red and tentatively took Sakura's hand in his. She felt his rough hand clasp hers and her heart beat a little faster. He placed a hand slowly on her small waist as she put one of her hands on his chest. They stepped slowly to the music, which seemed far away, somehow.

Syaoran's breath hitched in his chest as she placed her head on his shoulder. He remembered to move his feet just in time to avoid falling over. He glanced down at her secretly and saw a small smile on her lips. He slowly bent his head and placed his chin in the crook of her neck. They slowly rocked back and forth.

Syaoran smelled her hair. At some point it had fallen out of its elegant knot. The aroma was of some kind of fruit and passionflower. He reached his hand up from her waist to rest in it, stroking her silky locks softly. Her body tensed for a second, but then she relaxed.

Syaoran didn't even think about it. He just wanted the song to go on and on, for Sakura to rest in his arms forever. She moved her head off his shoulder and they looked into each other's eyes – just looked, for a long while. Syaoran moved his hand off her head onto her back and pulled her closer. She slowly slipped her hand off his chest and around his neck into his messy chocolate hair, her fingers twirling the strands around her fingers distractedly.

Sakura and Syaoran were lost in each other's eyes. They didn't even notice as the song ended and another slow one began. Sakura moved her lithe fingers around in his hair, feeling his breath hot on her face. She leaned in closer to him, smelling his cologne, or whatever he had on.

She didn't think about how he had hated her since high school had begun, how he had made her life a living hell, how he used to jibe her, had loathed her until she had come over to his house, where things had suddenly changed. She just stared deep into his large, dark, amber eyes, and she tilted her head up and closed her eyes as he kissed her.

Syaoran didn't think of who was watching, didn't think of the fact that everyone at the party thought he hated Sakura with a fervent passion. He just wanted… her, he wanted to press his lips firmly onto her slightly parted pink ones.

So he did.

And as he did, four figures in the corner watched.

"He's drunk," Aiko whispered to Meri. "Must be, like, _totally_ smashed to kiss… her."

"Looks okay to me," Meri muttered darkly.

"No way is he sober. He hates her guts," Takai mumbled softly, his arm around Aiko, his lips doing busy work on her neck as she stroked his head gently, rubbing her knee against his thigh.

Zinan said nothing. He merely drifted silently away from the other three.

Sakura felt Syaoran hold her tightly, felt his lips shift slightly on hers; their heads moved apart gently as the last of the slow songs ended. Syaoran put two fingers lightly on her lips as she opened her mouth to speak.

"You look beautiful," he whispered in her ear in the temporary gap between songs.

"And you look…" she muttered back, surveying him, hardly believing her own daring. "Undeniably gorgeous."

It was true, she thought. His hair was chaotic, slung every which way. His cheeks were flushed, and his tank top displayed perfectly to her a view of his muscles.

"Why, thank you," he said, smirking, as a loud song began to blare excitedly on the speakers.

Syaoran's eyes widened as he saw one of his Group slipping towards him.

"Zinan?" he asked.

"Hey, buddy, are you sober?" Zinan hissed, glancing behind him.

Sakura scowled, taking it as an insult.

"Well, yeah," Syaoran said. "Drinking is bad for my reflexes." And as he finally realized who was in front of him, his eyes widened. "Oh shit. Oh, shit… Are the rest here?"

"Yep. I came to warn you. They're pretty sure you're drunk and that's why you're dancing with Kinomoto," Zinan said. "They saw you, um, well…" he gestured vaguely at the two.

Syaoran's eyes widened in horror.

"It'll be okay if you just pretend to be drunk and, erm, 'don't remember anything' tomorrow, kay, dude?" Zinan slapped Syaoran's shoulder softly. Syaoran nodded. Zinan turned to Sakura.

"Kinomoto… be careful."

With that, Zinan dissolved into the crowd of now very sexually dancing, hormonal teenagers. Sakura's eye twitched as she surveyed a couple of people grinding in time to the music.

"Erm. I'm, um, not dancing to this song…" she mumbled with distaste.

"That makes two of us," Syaoran muttered. He glanced over into the corner where the Group was. Disgusted, he saw Takai furiously making out with Aiko. "Ew. Dude, she was with me the other day. What the hell?"

"Um, you haven't noticed her other flirt-fests? She does it, like, all the time," Sakura said.

Sakura looked over at the leather couch and saw Tomoyo and Eriol, still talking animatedly to each other. Looking at the Group, she saw with relief that they had not yet noticed the pair. She snickered as Eriol nervously put an arm around Tomoyo's shoulders. Only she could notice the anxious crossing of his legs, the frequent glance to either side, signs that it had taken a lot of his guts to do this simple action.

She scribbled a note on a piece of paper, led Syaoran by the two, and dropped a note onto Eriol's lap. He unfolded it and read the message:

_Dance with her, stupid._

Sakura grinned back at him, lifting one eyebrow. Eriol stuffed the note down the back of the couch, unnoticed by Tomoyo, who, with her head on his shoulder, felt as excited and drunk with giddiness as if it was her first crush. Eriol shakily stood, arm still around Tomoyo, and sank into the dance floor, leading her by the hand.

And they danced some more.

Sakura and Syaoran sat in the other room on the same loveseat.

After a long pause, Sakura turned her head to Syaoran again. "Syaoran… how do you feel about me?" Sakura said into his ear, breath tickling his hair.

Syaoran didn't think he'd ever been asked such a difficult question.

He thought about how long he'd been mindlessly insulting her, almost believing his own crafted rumors, then breaking through into a whirlwind of fact: that Sakura was a gorgeous person that he couldn't seem to get enough of… Deeper than he could imagine, more lighthearted and kinder than he could fathom, and he suddenly realized that he loved her more than he could ever know, and he knew the reason that he had been pushing her farther and farther away from him. It was to save himself from falling in love, completely and utterly. But this had failed, after all that.

"I love you."

Sakura's eyes snapped onto his in shock. He was staring at her, as if he had just realized it.

"I love you," he said again, softly, closed his eyes, and kissed her once again. He pulled away softly. "And I'm sorry." As they kissed, Sakura felt one tear slip out of her eyes and meet with one of his as one.

She stopped the kiss.

"The party's over," she said, and he noticed that it was true. Most of the guests were leaving, half of them pathetically inebriated.

"Yeah," he agreed.

"I never told you… I was too afraid," Sakura said, her voice stuttering and her breath catching. "But Touya's dead."

And it all rushed onto Syaoran in horror, every rumor he had started about her and her oldest brother. He sank back onto the loveseat and one more tear trickled from his eye, the second in a long while.

"Oh, Kami-sama, Sakura… I'm so, so sorry…" He shook. She took one of his hands in both of hers and pulled him upright.

"It's okay."

And those two words were the sweetest, the kindest, the most compassionate Syaoran had ever heard. He stopped the flow of water from his eyes, and the two walked out of the room, out of the party, not thinking about what tomorrow might bring.

* * *

**Blegh! The mush! It's too much! How did I write it?! Dude!**

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**Gollum.**


	7. Chapter 7

**The Artist- Chapter 7**

**Yes. The long-awaited Chapter Seven. **

…**Yes, you have kicking rights for me not uploading DESPITE all the beautiful reviews I got. Readers kick meI'm sure I don't need to list you all to express my gratitude. I'm perhaps hoping to, for the first time, perhaps break the hundred barrier this chapter? **

* * *

"You did _WHAT?_" gasped Eriol. "You said! Like a couple days ago! He hates you!"

"No, he doesn't," said Sakura defiantly.

"Sakura, this isn't, this isn't _you_," Eriol said, waving at her outfit. "You're the artist. Not the prep."

Sakura stopped walking and looked him in the eye.

"Have you ever thought it's who I might want to be?"

"It is?" said Eriol, stopping too.

"It's who I used to be. It's who I am. The artist is a, what is it? A façade. It's not me. It's who I act. My character. High school's a play, Eriol, and this is the part I got. Well, guess what? I'm re-auditioning!"

"Sakura…" said Eriol.

Sakura merely got into the car, waited for Eriol to get in too, then zoomed away immediately.

The next few days passed without event, Sakura simply moving through life. The fourth day after the party, Sakura got up on time. It only just then started to sink in what had happened at the party.

_Uggh, I must've been high on air that day. Maybe Li really was drunk._ She walked over to her closet and lazily picked some clothes and a black hair-band. Then she jerked awake. _My goodness, what am I going to do? They probably hate me even more!_

"Okay, Sakura. Calmmmm. I am calm."

She breathed deeply, put on black eyeshadow, grabbed her bag, and walked into the kitchen.

"Hey, Sakura. Black. I like it," Eriol said, looking at her clothing. Sakura blew at her hair and rolled her eyes, and then grabbed some food.

"I think I'll blade to school today," announced Sakura. "I feel like it."

"Okay," said Eriol. "Have fun, look both ways."

Sakura pulled on her skates and rolled out the door, pondering on how to draw Syaoran in her drawing. Obviously, she'd be doing him. Him smiling? Laughing at what she said? His face, turned to hers, pressing his lips to her own-

Sakura blushed and stopped thinking. As she looked down, she heard the blare of a car horn. She quickly skated to the side of the road, the sidewalk seeming elusive. The person swerved, and as Sakura looked in horror, the car hit a bump in the road, sending him careening off the road. The side of the car scraped a lamppost, and the driver tried to turn back onto the road, instead hitting a stop sign. Sakura saw the airbag poof out.

"Oh. Oh. Oh, Kami-sama." Sakura rolled across the street to the car. She looked in the driver's window, and saw the driver unconscious and bleeding from the nose. Horrified, she yanked open the door, and the man keeled over. Sakura clapped her hands over her mouth.

It was Syaoran.

She leaned over and unclipped his seatbelt, then pulled him out of the car. He was breathing raggedly; the airbag had seemed to do more damage than the crash. He opened his eyes.

"I thought it was you," he said, and shut his eyes. He coughed once, and blood spattered onto Sakura's shirt. His eyes opened again, and his breathing sounded better.

"Oh, I'm so sorry-" she started to protest. Syaoran shook his head and stood up.

"Those damn airbags," he muttered. "I should write a letter."

Sakura didn't know what to say. He had almost crashed into a lamppost, her, and several other objects, and he was still cracking jokes, just to make her feel better.

"Come on, we'd better get to school," he said. "I'll give you a ride."

"No, really," she said. "Remember, you were drunk the other day?"

Syaoran sighed. "Okay."

He got back in his car, whose damage was not all that extensive, just a fender-wrecker and a large scrape, and drove onto the road again. Sakura bladed quickly across the road and to school.

When she reached the school, the Group was just getting out of a shiny, white, imported Mercedes. They giggled as they saw Sakura's rollerblades, and pointed at them, probably muttering some stupid comment.

Sakura merely rolled her eyes and walked inside.

XXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXX

"Oh my gawd, Syaoran!" exclaimed Meri. "What happened to your nose?"

It was all red, and some of the bleeding still hadn't stopped.

"Uh, nothing," said Syaoran. "Nearly ran over a roller-blader, swerved, hit a stop sign. I'm good."

"Oh, yeah, and what's with you and Kinomoto?" asked Takai suspiciously, only then daring to bring it up.

"Me and Kinomoto?" said Syaoran, expression supremely blank.

"Told you he was drunk," Aiko giggled.

"Wait, what?" said Syaoran. "I haven't been to any parties in months."

"Uh, yeah," said Takai. "I now fully believe you."

Syaoran let his expression fade from indignant to confused to unconcerned with ease.

"Wait a minute. The crash... Kinomoto had on roller blades today!" gasped Meri.

"Yeah, she did!" said Aiko. "I'll bet she was trying to get you to stop telling people about her… wow, she's worse than I thought. Trying to make you crash?"

Syaoran panicked for a moment. "No, I think the person I saw was taller."

"Nah, things always seem taller from a car," Takai said darkly.

Zinan sighed. "You know, it's like you guys are obsessed with her. Can't you talk about your own lives for a damn change? I'm sick of sitting here and listening to you guys badmouth someone who can't even defend herself," he spat.

He got up and left.

"Dude, what's with my brother?" said Takai.

"Don't know," said Tomoyo. "But I'm gonna go and ask him."

She sighed with relief as she left the table. _No more talking about Kinomoto for me,_ she thought, and grinned to herself.

Sakura looked over from her tree at Syaoran's handsome profile. His expressive, arched eyebrows coupled with his amber eyes and dazzling smile made him look like a model, even from a distance. And his nose, slender and yet strong.

With a few quick strokes she captured him. She painted his lips rosy, and then shaded them lighter and the area under his cheekbones darker. She took a tiny brush and painted every hair on his eyebrows with precision, sighing as his eyes took form. Once done, she put it in her bag along with the pictures of Zinan and Tomoyo, whom she noticed were sitting several tables away. Strange…

She closed her eyes, and without even looking, chose the perfect shades of brown and dark gold for his hair. She rubbed the light chalk in haphazardly, creating Syaoran's messy look perfectly, and dragged a light tan down his skin.

Sakura clambered down from the tree and joined the rest of the skaters.

"Hey, Sakura," said Chiharu. "I heard about your car accident!" Inwardly, Sakura swore with every word she could think to combine.

She laughed uneasily. "Uh, how 'dya hear about that?" she chuckled offhandedly.

"Oh, through the grapevine," Rika answered, as Chiharu and Yamazaki started to kiss again. "You know how it goes, the whole news starts at the top, trickles down thing… you must really hate Li over there."

"Wait, what?"

"People said you tried to get him crashed," said Rika.

"No, no, no…" said Sakura. "I was just skating. It's not safe to look behind you; I can't see who's in the cars behind me. Or in front of me, for that matter."

"Yeah, see, I told you it didn't sound like Sakura," said Naoko, and then sighed to see that Rika was too busy with Keiji's mouth to listen.

Soon lunch was over. Sakura threw away her trash, and walked out of the lunchroom, to be stopped by Meri.

"Syaoran wants to know if you can meet him in the park at four today to work on a project," she said, with blank disdain in her voice.

"Well, then, why didn't he say so himself?" Sakura said.

"He thought you might like a little notice, instead of telling you last period… though why he'd care, I don't know," she sniffed, and flounced off, some of the surrounding males watching her skirt flap up.

_Well, four o'clock is right after school. That's a good idea; it'd be nice to get some fresh air._

"Hey, Eriol. I'm going to the park after school," Sakura said. "I'm going to work on the project with Li there."

"All right. See you last period."

During math class, Sakura was barely able to pay attention. She could feel Syaoran's light breathing on her neck. _It really is ridiculous. I'm so… and he's, just so… How did it happen so fast? Is Eriol right? Am I-_

"So," said Suzuki-sensei. "Sakura. Would you like to work this one out on the board?"

Horrified by Sakura's having to stay behind at school for mere math, Eriol had forced his own tutoring on her, much to her dismay. However, Sakura's mind now thought math automatically, and she had to admit it was getting easier and easier.

The problem on the board was quite complex. Suzuki shot a skeptical look at Sakura, as if daring her to get it right. Sakura's casual slouch at the board, ripped cargo pants and draping sweater grungy and black, she picked up a piece of chalk and scribbled down an answer with several Greek symbols.

"Good job, Kinomoto," said Suzuki unbelievingly. Sakura grunted and sat back down, sketching a face on her homework.

In history, all they did was work on the projects, again.

"Okay. So for our 36 Views of a Swordsman bit thingy, I need a model to draw. Can you take the basic form?" Sakura said. Syaoran took the sword and held it slightly away from him with both hands, feet a foot and a half apart, and scowled in a way he must have imagined seemed tough.

"I could do without the weirdo looks," said Sakura. Syaoran snickered and instead looked up at her from under his eyelashes, licking his lips. "Nope, not the slut look either, please," she chuckled. Syaoran then looked bored. Sakura sighed, muttering, "It'll have to do."

Sakura sketched the round head in, then the neck, soon followed by strong shoulders and muscled arms, with a vest that hung open and below-the-knee baggy pants that allowed for good movement. The hands took some erasing, but eventually she got the perfect angle for the sword. She nodded at him to relax, and he continued navigating among web pages as she named the stance neatly in block lettering and colored it roughly.

She left off Syaoran's face.

After history, she waved a 'see you later' to Syaoran. He hadn't actually mentioned anything about it, but he seemed really engrossed in the diagrams he had been researching. Sakura assumed that he meant in the cherry blossom grove, which had a gazebo perfect for working. She told Eriol she'd see him at around six, and then set off to the park.

She sat on a bench, looking down at her materials and sketching another stance a swordsman might take to attack. She heard feet on the grass and looked at her watch. He was forty-five minutes late.

She looked up. However, it was not Syaoran there, but three other people she really didn't want to see: Meri, Aiko, and Takai. Sakura immediately deduced that they had not let Tomoyo or Zinan in on this, being that they sat somewhere else for lunch. How shallow, she mused as they approached.

"Kinomoto," Aiko said in her high, whiny voice. "Your being kinda slutty really wasn't that great for your image in the first place, but violence? Tsk tsk."

Sakura immediately stuffed the project materials into her bag and sprang up, ready to run. She turned on a heel, but ironically tripped on a cherry blossom root.

Meri and Aiko each took one of her arms and helped her back up, despite her struggles. The park was deserted; everyone was at work. They walked her over to the penguin king with a grip of steel, and shoved her inside the darkness beneath it. There were two small arches made for kids, which were the ways out; one was unblocked. She dashed for it, but a figure darted in front of it. Takai pushed her back in. Sakura gazed calmly into their eyes. Meri's blue eyes flashed dangerously.

"First one to touch me gets this in the face," said Sakura. She held up a fist.

"Aw, come on, Sakura. You think we're scared of you, bitch?" snarled Takai. Sakura rolled her eyes.

"You sound like a bad horror movie," she drawled. Aiko flushed and stepped forward suddenly, slapping Sakura on the cheek. It wasn't particularly forceful, but it left a red mark. Without hesitating, Sakura settled into her horse stance and slammed the heel of her hand into Aiko's nose. She felt something crack slightly beneath her hand, and her nose started to bleed immediately.

"You're such a freak, Kinomoto," said Takai. As he lunged at her, Sakura twisted beneath his outstretched hand and aimed a punch at his back. However, she felt something hard collide with the back of her skull, causing black dots to explode in front of her vision. She half-turned and saw Meri's elbow inches from her face.

"I took kung fu too," Meri snarled, and snap-kicked Sakura in the gut before she could react. Sakura doubled over, but quickly got her side against the inside wall of the penguin king, turning sideways to reduce the area she could be attacked in. The other three closed in. Sakura blocked a punch Meri aimed at the side of her head, and then raised a shin to block a kick Aiko had thrown feebly. She was not fast enough to prevent Takai smashing his fist into her ear. It burned fiercely, but Sakura immediately spun on her heel and kicked at him. While she was turned, Aiko jumped on her, holding her down.

Half an hour later, Sakura laid motionless, face-up in the sand under the penguin king. _It really is like a bad movie,_ she thought as Takai's face loomed into vision.

"Don't mess with us," he growled, and punched her in the temple. Her vision swam, her nose bleeding all over her face, her eye swelling up. Her last thought was on how much like the Mafia this all seemed. _Mess with one of us, mess with all of us. _Aiko raised Sakura's limp hand and looked at the watch on the sandy wrist.

"5:30," she said. The others left. Sakura lay prone, motionless on the cushy sand, curled up in a corner, invisible from the outside. Her wrist, which had been stepped on at some point, felt like it was filled with burning liquid. One of her knees was stiff, and she couldn't move it.

And, to complete the awful movie's scene, just as her consciousness slipped away, it started to rain.

_Assholes._

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**You have. Fourteen. Voice messages. One message. From. Syaoran. One message. From. Work. One message. From. Unknown. Eleven messages. From. Home.**

**Message one: "Hey, Sakura, it's Syaoran. I wanted to know if you could work on the project after school tomorrow, since we didn't today. Call me back, my number's 987-3264."**

**Message two: "Yeah, Sakura! It's Meiling. Just wondered why you weren't at work. Are you sick or something? I told you you were supposed to be here at seven. Call me."**

**Message three: "Hey, it's Takahashi. I- what? No it isn't, it's a voice-mail- oh. Haha, sorry, wrong number. Dude, I'll bet it's like some random pers-"**

**Message four: "Sakura, it's Eriol. You're late. I'm starting dinner without you."**

**Message five: "Sakura, I know you're there. Aren't you supposed to be at work in like forty-five minutes?"**

**Message six: "Sakura, you're already late. Just go straight there, I'm good."**

**Message seven: "Dude! Are you there yet? Meiling's gonna kill you."**

**Message eight: "Sakura. Not funny. You'd better be at work. I need to know if you're there! Pick up!"**

**Message nine: "Sakura, pick up the damn phone. Call me."**

**Message ten: (screamed into phone) "SAAAAAAAAAAAAKUUUUUUUUURAAAAAAAAA. Earth to you. Jeez, loser."**

**Message eleven: "Okay, okay. You've got me. I'll stop calling. You should be done with work by now. Come home. I'll stop calling. Seriously."**

**Message twelve: "…okay, Sakura, it's really not funny. Just come home or pick up your phone."**

**Message thirteen: "WHY WAS I CURSED WITH SUCH A STUPID SISTER? Sometimes I think Touya was right, you are a kaijuu! Dude! You've got me worried here! There. I said it. Now will you come home? You're like an hour late."**

**Message fourteen: "Sakura? I- Sakura, where are you? Are you okay? Sakura, pick up the effing phone. Sakura! Oh, shi-"**

Eriol put the phone down. _Okay. Okay. I'll call… I'll call Meiling! Maybe they went to Wacdonald's or something._

"Hi, may I please speak to-"

"Speaking," said Meiling in a bored voice. "You know, Eriol, you should make your sister come to work. It's kinda bad to-"

"She didn't show up?" Eriol practically screamed.

"Oh, oh shit. Where is she?" said Meiling quietly.

"I have no idea. Oh man. She went to a study thing with Syaoran Li this afternoon, then she was supposed to come home at six."

"Syaoran Li? Isn't that the guy who she like hates?"

"Yeah," said Eriol. "If he did _anything _to her…" his voice was filled with menace that was most uncharacteristic of him.

"Let's look at the park, then," said Meiling. "I hope she's not caught in the rain. It's like pouring here."

Eriol hung up, put on a black poncho, and walked out into the pouring night.

It was hot, hotter inside the poncho, and the rain felt not refreshing, but disgusting, plastering his hair to his head.

He met Meiling at the Cherry blossom district. Within minutes of searching they had found a stray calligraphy pen. The darkness was engulfing as they ran through different places, calling Sakura's name.

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Syaoran loved the rain. Even hot, steaming rain like this. He swung on the large swings, looking over at the huge penguin king. Just then, a giant fork of lightning scissored down and struck right next to the swings. He leapt off, quaking, and suddenly, the rain was not so enjoyable. Earlier, he had slung his flashlight in the dry area under the king. It was now so dark that it was time to go home, he thought regretfully.

Syaoran got up and half-jogged over to the penguin king. He crawled under the tiny entrance, then stood and brushed sand off his knees. He reached for his flashlight and flicked it on, receiving a shock.

A motionless figure lay at the circular edge of the penguin king. He looked closer and his eyes widened. There was blood all over their face, and their hair was disheveled. Their clothing was so sandy that it was almost impossible to tell what they were wearing, and sand was even in the bag they carried. Syaoran waved his hand in front of the figure's eyes. He figured it was a female, because her nose was dainty even when broken and her lips were rosy and petite.

He lifted her onto his back, grabbed her bag in the hand he was not using to steady her, and ran towards his car, which was parked nearby.

He drove off a moment too soon to see Eriol and Meiling arrive at the Penguin King. They arrived too late to see any trace of Syaoran Li.

"Oh Kami-sama, what if she got raped or something?" Meiling wailed shrilly.

"It's okay. It's fine," Eriol said breathlessly. "We'll just go home, and I'll wait for her to come home. I'll keep calling her. You just go home and get a good night's sleep, okay?" Meiling admired Eriol. Even in a time like this, where his only relative was missing, he kept a cool head and still formulated rational, helpful plans. She nodded, took a deep, shuddering breath, and they walked out of the park.

XXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXX

"Dude, you really got a beating, didn't you?" Syaoran whispered to the figure, pulling off her sandy black jacket as he laid her on his bed. He traced his finger over his bruised cheekbones, her puffy eye. As he ran his fingers through her hair, sand cracked off it. It was a familiar honey-gold.

Syaoran's concerned eyes widened, and his eyebrows shot up, then together in anger. His mouth fell open.

"Oh. Oh. Sakura. Sakura! Wake up!" he said, voice increasing in volume.

"Is anything the matter, sir?" said Wei, appearing at the door.

"Oh, Wei, yes. Could you get some smelling salts from the far east cupboard- not the strong ones on the left. Preferably the ones on the top with the green labels. Also, two cups of strong ginseng tea, with sugar, no milk, and a first aid kit with plaster, and after that, could you run a hot bath in there?" Syaoran jerked his head over to his bathroom.

Used to Syaoran's long lists and memorizing them, Wei nodded and backed out gracefully. When the master came home in a foul mood, one stayed away. When he came home in a good mood, you cracked a joke. When he came home concerned, you asked if there was anything you could do. Wei did not know what one did if the master came home lugging an unconscious female and her bag, but it seemed to have worked.

Syaoran stroked the side of Sakura's face.

"What happened to you?" he moaned softly, seeing that one ear was a glaring shade of red. Her breathing was steady, however.

He looked down her tall, slender form. One of her wrists was horribly swollen.

"And Wei?" he yelled. "Some ice and a wet cloth, too."

"Of course," came the response.

His eyes alit on her knee. It was turning a sickly shade of green and purple. He tried to move it, but as the joint bent, it twisted to the side. _Twisted knee, wrist probably stepped on. And there must've been more than one to take _her _down; I've fought with her one-on-one. She's pretty scary._ Syaoran shook his head. He flipped her over so he could see her back. Embarrassedly, he rolled up the back of her shirt, careful to preserve her dignity as he peeked at the smooth skin of her shoulder-blades. There were marks from lying in the sand, but nothing else on her back except a huge, spreading bruise at the right of her neck.

He swallowed with difficulty. There was a large lump in his throat that didn't seem to want to go away, and a strange, boiling sensation at the bottom of his stomach.

"Who? I swear I'll get those shitheads. Just wait, Sakura. I'll- Sakura?" he whispered. Sakura's eyes cracked open a slit.

"Where am I?" she croaked, her mouth sagging jaggedly to one side.

"My house," said Syaoran.

"Oh, your gigantic …fancy-mansion?" Sakura said, her voice rough.

"Yes, my gigantic fancy-mansion," Syaoran replied, smiling, his voice cracking with unexpressed relief.

"Syaoran, did you… call my brother?" Sakura groaned, just as her cell phone rang. Syaoran dug through her bag and came up with the phone.

"Hello?" he said.

"What did you do to her?" Eriol yelled. Syaoran held the phone away from his ear, and then gave it to Sakura.

"Eriol? It's me," she rasped. "I got beat up. Syaoran took me to his place. He's taking care of me."

"Oh, oh Kami-sama. Are you- did they-"

"No. I just can't…. move my wrist, or… my knee. And my face looks pretty… bad. And it… hurts pretty bad too," she wheezed. "I can't really move."

"Give me to Li," demanded Eriol, his concerned voice sounding tight and tense.

"Yeah?" said Syaoran.

"Can she stay there for the night? You've got a spare bedroom, right?" he said urgently.

"Yeah, we're good. Don't worry. I'll take care of her," said Syaoran.

There was a slight pause. Then, "I know you will," said Eriol. "You'd better." He let out a hollow-sounding laugh. "Say goodnight to Sakura for me."

The line ended.

Wei walked in with a tray. On it were two steaming cups of tea, a small bucket of ice, five plasters, and a first-aid-kit. He took the smelling salts from his pocket. "Do you need these?"

"Not really. Thanks, Wei," Syaoran said. Wei put the tray on the bedside table, and then went into the bathroom to run a hot bath.

Syaoran sat down next to Sakura. She groaned and sat up. Syaoran immediately put cushions behind her. "Thanks," she said. He nodded, then handed her a cup of tea. She drank from it slowly, blinking softly.

"You're so weird," she said. Syaoran was taken aback. Of all the things he expected her to say, this was not one.

"Why?" he asked.

"You're so afraid to show that you care. You bring me here and get all this stuff for me, then hand me a cup of tea," she crackled. Syaoran mused.

"Hm. I guess," he said, unsure as to where she was going. "Here, put your hand in this." He held out the bucket of ice and put it next to her. He took her hand and gently scooped a hollow into the ice, then placed her hand in and put the ice on her wrist. Her eyes eased shut with pain.

"Who did it?" Syaoran asked.

"Oh, just a couple of guys," Sakura said, lying with the ease of practice. "Could I have a canvas?"

"A what?" asked Syaoran. _Another thing to add to the 'this-is-not-what-I-expected-her-to-say' list._

"A canvas. From my bag. Please?" I need to paint. It's how I relax."

Syaoran took out a sheet of canvas from inside the large green bag and handed it to her, along with some oil paints.

Slowly he removed some more ice, put it in a bag, and placed it on Sakura's knee. She closed her eyes and breathed in sharply.

"I can't believe you cut yourself," Syaoran said softly. "I can't believe I did that."

"Yeah, neither can I," Sakura said, and somehow cracked a smile that looked more like a grimace through her pained face.

Syaoran kneeled on the bed, closer to her face. His breath washed over her.

"You smell like the rain," she said distractedly, and raised the brush, starting a picture. Syaoran's cheeks turned slightly redder. He painted some antiseptic onto her bruised flesh, but aside from a strange scratch along the side of her face, there seemed to be no open cuts. Aiko had scraped her fingernails down Sakura's head.

Syaoran put a long plaster on the cut and some more ice on her eye. In the quiet of the room, it seemed slightly awkward to him, since the last time he had been so close to her they had been at a loud party, slow-dancing.

"You wanna take a bath?" asked Syaoran. She nodded and removed the various icepacks from her body, then slipped inside the bathroom.

Syaoran lay on his back and looked at the green canopy, wishing that Sakura weren't in so much pain.

It was funny. Just days ago he would not have cared at all.

One night. One party. One kiss. One confession. Two people. They made all the difference.

Sakura stepped out of the hot bathroom, her cheeks flushed, a towel wrapped around her.

"The water's so hot," she said sleepily. Her eyes looked weary, and she swayed on the spot. Syaoran jumped off the bed just in time to catch her. Her head pressed against his neck. He lifted her into his arms, very aware of her delicate form against him, and walked next door. He laid her on a bed equally soft and comfortable, and then jerked to his senses. How could she sleep in a towel?! He had no girls' clothes! Slowly he shook her awake, bringing her a large nightshirt.

"Sorry, it's all we have," he muttered. She smiled sleepily, and then let the towel drop from her just as he looked away. She was delirious, and would not save herself from embarrassment, so he would do it for her. As much as he wanted to look. Male hormones; sometimes he really hated them.

She curled up under the covers. Syaoran looked at her and felt a sense of peace inside, and before he could stop himself, he had leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. Her eyes opened slightly, but his were closed, so she merely sank down onto the pillow and let him kiss her. The dark room hushed the small sounds he made as his lips electrified hers with their touch.

When he pulled away, he slowly traced over her injuries sadly, and said good night, glad that the next day was a Sunday, and Sakura would be able to get a good night's sleep. He thought of only how much he would like to smash the faces in of those who hurt her as he gently laid her bag inside her room and went to sleep himself.

* * *

**The mushiness. You like? It wasn't too bad, is my thought.**

**Nice long chapter to make up for the cruelty of waiting you guys have had to endure. I love you all.**

**I'm thinking of re-uploading some of the chapters- they seem a little on the meh side to me.**

**Make sure to drop a review for the mystical magical wonderful me- it makes me happy, and you know what that means… happy me, more **_**stuff**_

**See y'all.**

**Gollum**


	8. Chapter 8

**The Artist – Chapter 8**

**Yo. Yep, I am SO re-uploading most of these chappies. They're quite mediocre. I'll start right after this chapter.**

**Haha, out of 191 people who read chapter 7, six (so far) reviewed. I find this quite funny, actually. I didn't reach a hundred yet, but maybe with this chappie…**

* * *

Sakura woke with a splitting headache. _Whoa, what happened? What's with this big room?_ She sat up, but her vision swayed from side to side and she promptly flumped back down onto the pillows. As she touched the large bandage spreading down the side of her face, it flooded back to her. She was in Syaoran's house. She'd been beaten up by that moronic threesome. She'd lain under the Penguin King for hours. 

She groaned, but did nothing but look at her watch. It read 2:30, PM. On Sunday. She closed her eyes and sighed, and then her breath drew in sharply as she moved her wrist. She formed her mouth into a small 'o', controlling her breathing. She saw the door open a crack.

"Come in," she said, her voice quiet and scratchy with dryness.

"Hey," said Syaoran, shutting the door behind him. "Feel okay?"

"Considering," said Sakura. "Got any water?" She scooted farther into her sitting position, only to have her face screwed up in agony. Her knee sent shooting pains into her thigh, and, strangely, her arms. _Referred pain,_ she remembered. Instantly, Syaoran was by her side.

"Your knee?" he said. She nodded. "I'll get you some water," he said, and hurried out of the room. Sakura dangled her one good arm over the bed and came up with a piece of paper and a pencil. She saw Syaoran shaking his head, smiling, as he came in and saw her drawing. Sakura reached up and took the cup from Syaoran, wincing as the cold glass touched her split lip.

"Syaoran," she asked. "Did you ever get into fights?"

Syaoran had moved to Tomoeda in freshman year, and with his good looks and outgoing personality, he quickly rose to the top of the so-called 'social ladder'. However, he always seemed to have a sort of inner coldness; he would freak out at people unexpectedly at random times.

"A couple," he said, sitting down. "In Tokyo. Not here."

"Why?" she asked.

"I don't want to talk about it," he snapped suddenly. She recoiled slightly and the ice fell off her wrist. He replaced it. "Sorry," he said softly. "It's an, um, awkward subject."

She gave him a small smile. "It's okay. I know how that feels."

Syaoran looked at her with gratitude, and then said, "You want something to eat? You haven't eaten since lunch yesterday."

Sakura nodded. "Thanks." She continued to sketch, a girl in bed, her hair tossed around her, eyes closed, a sheet over her body, flower petals drifting towards her, blood slowly dripping from one hand.

Syaoran came back with two bowls of noodles and her cell phone. "Thought you might want to call your brother," he said, handing her the phone and putting the noodles on the table. She flipped it open and dialed her house.

Eriol picked up the phone. "Hello? Oh, Sakura. Are you okay? Yeah? That's cool. Wait, when are you coming home? How about … nine, I'll pick you up. No, tell him he doesn't have to. Seriously, I'll pick you up. Okay. See you."

He had called Meiling the night before, who had sighed in relief once she heard that Sakura was alive and un-raped.

Sakura glomphed down the noodles, practically inhaling the bowl and the spoon as well. As she started drawing again, Syaoran finished his noodles in a much more ladylike manner.

"So," said Syaoran. "Where do you want to go today? We got six hours."

"Hm. How about the park?"

Syaoran nearly leapt off the bed. "Why do you want to go to the park?! You just got, like, beat up there!"

"Well, it's not the park's fault," said Sakura placidly, continuing to draw. "And the trees are really pretty."

"Okay, okay. But you're gonna need, like, crutches, and a cast. Or something," said Syaoran.

"I'll just use a stick. You do have a stick, right?"

"Uh, yeah…"

"All right then. Let's go!" she said enthusiastically. She slid out of bed, and then grunted in pain as her knee bent. Syaoran helped her up, and they found a crutch stick in the mansion within minutes, then bound Sakura's wrist with medical tape.

Syaoran drove to the park, and they got out. It was a beautiful day, with a shimmering, warm sun, and clean, fresh air. The pair walked through the cherry trees, laughing and chatting.

"Wanna play twenty questions?" asked Syaoran as they sat down on a park bench.

"Yeah, sure," said Sakura in her quiet voice.

"Okay," said Syaoran. "I'll start. What was the biggest surprise you've ever had?"

"Hm. I'd have to say it was at my eighth birthday party. I walked into the house, and it was all dark, and then suddenly there was a ghost and it was big and white… hoeeee… And then the ghost ripped its own head off and it was actually Touya! And the lights turned on and it was a big surprise party!" she said happily. "Okay. Your turn. First kiss?"

"Uh, this girl back in Tokyo. Her name was, hm, it was, Rei."

"And how old were you?" Sakura pressed on.

"…you'll have to wait until the next question, won't you?" said Syaoran mischievously. Sakura scowled at him, and then winced slightly as her hurt eye throbbed. "Anyway, it's my turn," Syaoran continued. "Favorite food?"

"Ramen noodles. Mmmmm. Okay. How old were you when you had your first kiss?"

"Twelve," said Syaoran, blushing. "Meh, this is taking too long. How about ten questions?" he suggested. Sakura shrugged. "So I have 8 left and you have 8 too. Now. Who was your first kiss?"

"Er, ah, um…"

"Come on, I told you."

"Ahh… you?" she muttered.

"Oh! Well, then."

There was an awkward silence.

"Okay," Sakura continued. "Heritage?"

"I'm from China. Hong Kong, actually. But I moved to Japan when I was like two."

"You say like a lot," she said pensively. "It's interesting."

Syaoran raised an eyebrow. "Okay. What's your favorite book?"

"Define Normal, by Julie Anne Peters, which the author doesn't own," replied Sakura. "You?"

"Existentialism and Human Emotions, by Sartre," said Syaoran.

"Really!" exclaimed Sakura. "Wow." She moved her hand slightly; her wrist had begun to freeze up and ache.

"Fifth question. Ahh. Okay. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?" asked Syaoran.

"My tendency towards depression and magnification of my emotional state. A k a being sad. What do you like about yourself?"

"My intelligence," he said. "Stuff pretty much comes easy to me."

"Uh-huh," Sakura said. "And your modesty, too."

"Yeah, that – hey!" Syaoran looked at her in mock anger, then gave a small 'hmph' and looked away. "Favorite music?" he asked the air to the left of him.

"Linkin Park. Favorite… friend?"

"That would have to be… Tomoyo," said Syaoran. "I guess it's because I can't really, you know, be seen with you," he said sadly.

"Yeah," agreed Sakura. "That pretty much sucks. For you." She stuck out her tongue, and Syaoran snorted.

"Okay. Number seven. First significant other?"

"You mean boyfriend?" asked Sakura, eyes confused.

"Well, if you swing the other way, then I have to be politically correct in every way, shape, and form-" he broke off, sniggering.

Sakura punched him on the arm, laughing. "Moron. That would be Takashi Yamazaki."

"Wait, what? That skater guy?" Syaoran said, sitting up straighter.

"Yeah, yeah. Gimme a break, it was in seventh grade, and it was for like a week, and on a dare."

"Oh. Well then," Syaoran said. "Your turn."

"Ever …" she blushed bright red. "Done it?"

Syaoran wrinkled his nose. "No," he said, and Sakura raised an eyebrow. "Honestly," he continued. "In high school just seems… yuck. Some of my friends, ah, think differently, shall we say." He coughed. "Now. Worst grade?"

"An 'F'," she replied.

"Seriously!?" Syaoran exclaimed. "Dude! In what?"

Sakura tsked. "You'll just have to wait until the next question," she chuckled. "First word?"

"I think it was 'no'," Syaoran said, eyebrows furrowed. "Wait. No, it was phosphorescent."

"You were one strange little child," Sakura said.

"Yeah, yeah. Now what was the 'F' in?"

"Math," she said.

"Actually, somehow, I kinda suspected that…" Syaoran said, smirking. Sakura scowled at him.

"Favorite animal?"

"Dog," Syaoran replied. "Generic, I know. And, last question for me. Best friend?"

"Eriol," Sakura said.

"That so doesn't count," Syaoran said.

"It so does," Sakura argued. "He is my best friend."

"Okay, okay. Your turn."

"And… Where does your family live?"

"My mother lives in Hong Kong. Two of my sisters live in Tokyo. The other two live in Kyoto. My father lives in Taiwan."

"Wow. Your family's really a cultural hub, eh?"

"I guess," Syaoran said, and his face saddened for a moment. The expression was so fleeting that Sakura thought she might have imagined it in his light brown eyes. "One last question," Syaoran said.

"That's not fair," Sakura complained. "You already had ten."

"This isn't for the game," he said.

"Okay, okay," Sakura huffed, crossing her arms, forgetting her wrist for a moment, and then glaring at it as it flared in pain again.

"Will you kiss me?"

"What?" said Sakura, brow un-furrowing, thinking she'd misheard.

"I said, will you kiss me?" Syaoran repeated, voice soft.

Sakura said nothing, but turned her head. Syaoran slowly pressed his lips to hers. She closed her eyes. After a few seconds, he pulled away. "Want some shaved ice?" he said, as if nothing had happened, but Sakura saw a small glow in his amber eyes.

"Yeah, sure," said Sakura. She picked up her stick, and the two crossed the park, slowly, so Sakura wouldn't hurt herself, to a shaved ice vendor.

Syaoran closed his eyes for a mere moment, wondering why he'd let his own jealousy smother the person Sakura was inside for so long.

Sakura closed her eyes for a mere moment, wondering why she'd locked herself away behind a pointless mask of remoteness for so long.

The pair walked in silence among the cherry trees for a while. Syaoran picked a flower and put it in Sakura's golden-brown hair. She blushed slightly. The park was deserted, but beautiful. The mid-afternoon sun glowed through the trees, casting soft light on the two of them. They munched on the flavored ice, letting it melt on their tongues, content just to be with each other.

At six o'clock, they drove back to Syaoran's home. Sakura's knee felt wobbly with exhaustion. Syaoran helped her inside, and they made their way through the many corridors into a large den, floored with dense maroon carpet, with dark paneled walls that embraced the flickering fire in the stone fireplace. The furniture was also dark, and very comfortable. Sakura sank onto a cushy sofa with relief, dropping her crutch sticks.

Yet again she thought about how strange it was that just weeks ago, she would not have gone to Syaoran's home for the world.

Syaoran walked in behind her, shutting the huge antique doors.

"So," he said. "What do you want for dinner?"

"How about a hot pocket™?" she suggested.

"A what?" he asked.

"Don't tell me you've never had a hot pocket!" she gasped. "They're like pizza, or stromboli, only small. They're so good."

"Erm, I don't think we have any. Wei!" he said as Wei entered the den. "Do we have any, ah, 'hot pockets'?"

"Yes, sir, I eat them for breakfast," Wei replied.

"Well, whaddya know," Syaoran muttered. "Could you spare two?"

"Of course, sir," Wei said, his kindly old features crinkling into a smile. "Goodness knows you pay me enough to spare two measly hot pockets."

Wei walked back down the hall, smiling. _I hope she doesn't make him unhappy. I've never seen him care about anyone so much,_ the old butler thought.

In just two minutes, Wei was back, with two steaming hot pockets. As Syaoran bit into one, encountering melted cheese and tender meat below his teeth, he let out an exclamation of pleasure.

"Mph! These are good!" he said in surprise, before taking another huge bite.

"You're gonna burn your mouth," she said, right as he yelped in pain.

"Uh-huh," she said, blowing gently on her hot pocket.

"So Sakura," he said conversationally. "Do you play an instrument?"

"Mmhmph," she grunted in the affirmative. Swallowing, she said, "Piano."

"Really?" said Syaoran. "So do I! That's cool!"

"How long have you played?" said Sakura.

"Twelve or thirteen years now, I think," said Syaoran.

"Wow!" exclaimed Sakura. "I've only played for like eight or nine.

"I haven't been practicing too much lately," Syaoran mumbled through his food. "I really should, but you know. School and all that shit."

Sakura sighed. "Syaoran… just when I thought you were going to go a whole day without cursing."

"Well, you don't exactly show restraint," Syaoran chortled.

"I've been trying to wean myself off it… kinda…" Sakura mumbled. "Anyway. Let's hear something!" She indicated a grand piano in the corner.

"Ah, okay, I guess," he said, polishing off the last of his hot pocket and going to sit in the corner. "This's called La Campenella. By Liszt."

He started softly, gently plucking the notes like you would touch something slightly too warm. As the song continued, he got more frenzied, attacking the keys with his eyes closed. The sweet, lilting melody floated above the beautiful, impossible harmony drumming out in the bass clef. Syaoran rocked back and forth, allowing his hands better access to the piano.

His trilling in the right hand slowly fainted away, revealing his left hand's version of the melody's exposition. His rests lifted above the keys just long enough to leave Sakura listening intently, and when he dragged his hand down the piano in a long chromatic, she closed her eyes, letting the music drift over her.

Syaoran's brow furrowed as he leapt octaves at a time, chords and staggered arpeggios each hitting perfectly. The staccatos were crisp and precise in octaves, as his hands jittered, impassioned, over the whole keyboard. He slammed his hands in precise movements into huge chords in the bass, and it seemed that as soon as it had started, it was over.

Syaoran looked over. Sakura lay motionless on the sofa, sleeping softly. He walked softly over to her, and brushed a solitary tear off her angelic, bruised face, then walked back over to the piano and slowly moved into a sweet, soft, flawless rendition of Clair de Lune.

_Touya!_

_Hey, kaijuu. Have fun at school?_

_Yeah, it wasn't bad. Me and Eriol had good lunches. Thanks, dad!_

_No problem, honey. C'mere and give your dad a hug._

_Sakura ran over to her father, who lifted Sakura into the air and twirled her around, his young face smiling and full of happiness as he handed Sakura to Nadeshiko, who hugged Sakura tightly. _

_There was a family portrait on the table._

_It seemed to Sakura that in the next year, three of the five faces simply faded, as if they existed only to smile eternally from that sepia toned picture._

_Sweet music echoed around the house._

And two more tears trickled from Sakura's eyes, carving a jagged path over bruises and swollen flesh. Her skin, tired of being in pain, sagged in sleep.

Two hours later, Eriol rang the doorbell, but Sakura did not awaken. Syaoran carried her and her bag to the door, where Eriol placed her gently in the back seat. And they went home, which, since three other lives had faded from its picture, no longer seemed so much like home.

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Sakura was slow to wake up the next morning, even with her early drift off to sleep. Eriol gently shook her awake, deploring the state of her battered face.

"C'mon, Sakura. Time to go," he whispered.

"Mmmmph," Sakura mumbled into her pillow. "Okay, I'm up," she sighed blearily, sitting up and swaying slightly.

"Cool. We should leave in about ten minutes," Eriol said, and Sakura jumped, actually awake.

"Oops, did I say ten? I meant thirty," Eriol snickered, earning a dagger glare.

"You suck," said Sakura, and limped out of bed into the shower.

Twenty minutes later, her bandages were reapplied, her bruises had fresh ointment, and her knee had a brace on. She quickly got dressed, and then hobbled down the stairs.

"So who did it?" asked Eriol.

"Who did what?" said Sakura.

"Uh, _beat you up_, maybe?!" said Eriol.

"I don't know," lied Sakura. "I didn't really get a look at their faces." _It's a bad lie, but it's a classic. I bet it'll work._

"Hmph," muttered Eriol, grumbling something about much pain under his breath.

"It's time to go," said Sakura. She smiled, and was happy to realize that her lip had healed, and several of the bruises had vanished completely.

As they drove to school, Sakura felt some sort of emotion swelling inside her. She saw three faces loom in front of her, and as much as she tried to quell the feeling, it was futile. She realized that her face was screwed into a vicious snarl, and quickly relaxed her muscles. She never realized the hatred she felt towards those… those _people_.

She took a deep breath, felt the anger seep out of her stomach, and stepped onto the pavement with her good leg.

Eriol helped her to the door, and they went their separate ways, Sakura limping and wincing every so often, Eriol turning around once every while to make sure she was okay, until they were out of sight of each other.

Sakura was not up to climbing her tree that day. Instead, she sat at the end of the table, not talking to anyone. Every time she looked around at her classmates, a few faces turned away from looking at her bedraggled appearance.

She opened her bento and was at the point of starting to eat when Tomoyo Daidouji and Zinan Kudo, of all people, sat down next to her.

"Hi," said Tomoyo. "Are you okay? You look, uh, a little …damaged?"

"Yeah, I fell onto the road," Sakura said.

"Ouch," said Zinan. "Painful."

"So why aren't you guys sitting with your people?" asked Sakura.

"We got sick of the subject," said Tomoyo, shooting Sakura a dazzling smile. "They always talk about the same things."

"Wouldn't you rather, like, not sit with me?" asked Sakura quietly. "I mean, it's no real secret that they hate me over there."

"I don't know. I think we're kinda going our separate ways," said Zinan. "They're just stuck in one place, and I think we're moving on."

"Where're you moving to?" said Sakura cryptically. Tomoyo and Zinan looked at each other, not quite sure what to make of the statement.

"Uh… I don't know. Somewhere less shallow, perhaps," said Tomoyo brightly. "It used to be nice, having two… friends? Nah, they're more like minions… but now they just seem clingy. And I'd rather take less time buying clothes, which is like all they do, and take more time designing them!"

"You design clothes?" asked Sakura. "That's awesome!"

"Well, you know, it's more like a hobby. But people tell me I'm good," said Tomoyo.

Sakura finished her lunch, and continued chatting with two people she'd never expect to sit with her after ninth grade.

"Do you still dance?" asked Tomoyo. "After freshman year, well, we didn't see you at parties, really, anymore."

"Not too much," said Sakura. "I basically paint. And draw. And run. And fail math."

"Ha! Me too!" chortled Tomoyo. "I hate trig. It's impossible."

Sakura nodded in agreement. _Jeez, no wonder everyone likes Tomoyo. She's impossible to not get along with!_

"Oh, yeah! Syaoran said that you guys were doing your history project together! What's it on?"

"Armies and sword-fighting, mainly," said Sakura.

"Cool. I'm doing mine on clothing styles of the ancient days with Zinan. He's researching and doing all the boring stuff, and I get to make clothes!"

"Yep. Lucky me," said Zinan dryly, edging away from Tomoyo's exuding enthusiasm. Sakura laughed.

"Who's gonna model them?" asked Sakura.

"Well, I was thinking me, but I've got the wrong body shape. And Aiko said she hated stuff that had sleeves. And Meri's got totally the wrong complexion. So I'm still searching."

"Cool. Oh, there's the bell. I'll, uh, see you later, I guess," said Sakura, and exited. Aiko, Meri, and Takai gave her small, venomous smiles as she went out the ugly blue double-doors.

In response, she flicked them off, and went to math.

The class was starting a new unit in math. Sakura spent most of the period gnawing on her lip, shutting her eyes tighter in order to try and comprehend all the symbols on the board, and wishing hard that Eriol would teach the class instead of Suzuki-sensei. She stood up in relief when it was over, and practically flew to Civics, which passed without event.

In History, Sakura and Syaoran finished up the first draft of the thirty-page essay and half their drawings.

"Kinomoto-san?" called the teacher right after class. "Li-san? Could you come here, please?" Sakura waved at Eriol to leave. He nodded.

"Call you when I'm done," she mouthed. If the teacher wanted her to stay for an hour or something, then she didn't want Eriol to wait for her. He would give her a lift home whenever she needed it.

The two walked up to the teacher. "Yes, sensei?"

"I wanted to confirm that you two are both certified in some way to use swords reliably. You know. Just in case."

"Yes, we're both black belts, at least third degree. Li-san, you may go. Kinomoto-san, a moment?"

Syaoran walked away.

"Listen, Kinomoto-san. Daidouji-san is doing a project on kimonos, and she wanted me to ask people if they would mind modeling them. You're pretty, Kinomoto, even if you hide it. Maybe you would help her?"

"Uh, I don't know. I'll think about it, I guess…"

"All right. If you could let her know by tomorrow or the day after, that would be great. And Suzuki-sensei wants to speak to you, too."

Sakura groaned. _Not more math…_ "Hai, sensei," she said tiredly, and walked down the hall to the math classroom.

"Ah, yes. Kinomoto. I sense you're having difficulty with this chapter?"

"Hai," said Sakura.

"Well, I'd like to suggest a new school project the principal suggested: student tutoring! Another student can tutor you."

"No, really, sensei, I'll get my brother to explain it," she insisted.

"Hm. Well. If you haven't made progress with your grades in a week, we will do this tutoring thing."

"Yes, Suzuki-sensei," Sakura said.

"Dismissed."

Sakura walked out into the hall. She leaned over to get water, and when she turned around, Takai Kudo was standing there.

"What do you want this time?" she said boredly. "I already hurt enough without having to look at you."

Takai said nothing. Sakura edged along the wall and broke into a limp-sprint, tugging out her cell phone. She flipped it open and dialed home when Takai grabbed her by the hair, causing her to drop everything she was holding.

"Get off me," she hissed, and brought her right elbow back into his face. She turned around and kneed him where the sun don't shine, then picked the phone back up.

"Yeah, Eriol? Could you pick me up? Thanks." She hung up, slung the phone back into her bag, and limp-ran again until she was outside. Within minutes, Eriol was there, and she hopped into the car.

"What did sensei want?" asked Eriol.

"Oh. Daidouji wants someone to model her clothes for her history project, and sensei wanted to know if I'd do it. I said I'd think about it."

"Do you want to?" asked Eriol.

"I don't know. Maybe."

But as she had seen the look on Eriol's face at the mention of Tomoyo, she'd already made up her mind.

Late that night, Sakura realized that she hadn't painted or drawn a single thing that day.

Immediately, she yanked out paper and began to remedy it.

A mile away, Syaoran slowly caressed the piano's keys, leaning into the oriental music, feeling his spirit touch Sakura's in the world of art.

* * *

**Haha! Syaoran's an inner geek! (giggle) And jeez. Those morons seem almost stalker-y. Stupid Takai. (mumbles about own character to self, how sad)**

**Let the chapter renovations… begin. Dun dun dunnnnn! **

**I would love constructive criticism… please?**

**Yours ever,**

**Gollum**


	9. Chapter 9

**The Artist – Chapter 9**

**  
Yo. Back with Chapter 9. Thanks for all you guys' immense support! Also, I just started a new fic: The Higher You Aim. So check it out if you wanna. All right, without further delay, I bring you Chapter 9!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything in here that you recognize, but hey, you can let me dream.**

* * *

Sakura sat at the end of the table with Tomoyo and Zinan again. It was sort of a silent agreement between the three that they could sit together without discussion of times before. 

"So," said Tomoyo, "did you think about my offer?"

"About the kimonos? Yeah, I'll try it," replied Sakura.

"Awesome!" squealed Tomoyo. "Can you come over to my house today? Zinan's gonna be there too. We're gonna work on the project."

"Uh, sure. I'll bet Eriol can give me a ride," said Sakura slyly, pretending to let Tomoyo's blush go unseen.

Syaoran shot longing glances over at Tomoyo, Zinan, and Sakura, wishing he were sitting there instead of listening to the talk he now found so shallow. The topics: sports, the mall, Kinomoto, clothes, makeup, hot girls, hot guys. Syaoran had been mentally categorizing them, which in itself told him that it was time to leave.

"I'm gonna go and sit with them," said Syaoran, pointing to the others.

"Syaoran?" asked Takai incredulously. "You too? Jeez." He shook his head as Syaoran vaulted over the back of the seat, taking his lunch, and sat down next to Zinan.

"Hey, guys," muttered Syaoran.

"Decided to join us?" said Tomoyo, smiling.

"It's like a union," joked Zinan. "Against the shallowness of … of… of them."

The four of them chuckled.

"Sakura's gonna model my kimonos," said Tomoyo to Syaoran.

"Well, good for Sakura," said Syaoran. Then he made his mistake: pressing further. "What do they look like?"

Zinan slapped his forehead at the question. Tomoyo instantly started gushing about hem sizes and fabric types. Syaoran, mildly alarmed, opened his bento box and started to eat, keeping one eye on Tomoyo as if to convince her that he really was listening.

"Okay, so why did Syaoran just leave?" said Aiko.

"Must be to sit with 'moyo," suggested Meri. "They_ are_, like, best friends."

"Best friends enough to stand Kinomoto?" said Takai.

Silence.

Sakura had gone through another bout of Eriol's tutoring. He was so engaging that she hadn't wanted to fall asleep even once, which was more than Suzuki-sensei had ever achieved. She felt alert during math, raising her hand so often that a few students stared at her in surprise.

In Language Arts class, they handed in essays, and the teacher announced a new class project: a play. The whole class groaned in unison.

"A play?!" someone said, sounding outraged. The teacher rounded on him, and he shrank back in his seat, grinning sheepishly. "I mean, er, a play…"

"What play?" called Takai. The rest of the class murmured. For Sakura, Language Arts was easy. It always seemed to rush by, even with the whole of the Group there. Eriol was also in the class, and a couple of the skaters. Sakura knew almost everyone in the class.

"A love story," the teacher sighed happily. The class twitched.

"Wonderful," Sakura whispered to Eriol. "Can't we do something interesting?"

"I'm sure you heard from last year's seniors that the play would be one of Grimm's fairy tales, like Cinderella or something. Nope. We're doing a play called As You Like It, by William Shakespeare."

Sakura swore she could hear the crickets chirping in the silence.

"Shakespeare?" yelped Syaoran, to much mirth from the class.

"Yes, Mr. Li. It's a comedy, but unfortunately, the prose is rather complex. But I believe you can memorize it." She gave a thin-lipped smile, devoid of happiness, filled with something more like vengeance. "To find the parts, I have written the names of everyone in the class down and put them in two hats: One for the boys, and one for the girls. Here are the parts: Rosalind is the female lead, Orlando is the male lead." Without saying anything else, she chalked up the rest of the parts on the board, among which were Celia, Rosalind's best friend, Touchstone, a jester, and Oliver, Orlando's brother. There seemed to be, to the class's dismay, the perfect number of characters.

"Oh, and, by the way, I expect this play to be as professional as possible. And yes," she said, rolling her eyes, "that does mean real kissing." Someone wolf-whistled and she glared in the general direction of the noise.

"All right. Let's start with the female characters. As Audrey, the simple-minded goatherd… Aiko Watanabe." The class chuckled. Aiko shot them glowers. "As Phoebe, a young shepherdess, Meriwether Sanders." Meri winced at her full name and scowled at the teacher. The two engaged in a ten-second staring contest that Meri won easily. "And, oh dear. Well. We seem to have more males by far in roles, so some girls will have to play men's parts. Ah well. Celia will be played by, ah, Tomoyo Daidouji, and Rosalind played by-" everyone held their breath- "Sakura Kinomoto." A sudden outburst of chatting broke out.

Chiharu and Naoko, as well as two other girls Sakura didn't know, had to play minor male characters. Sakura felt quite sorry for them. Yamazaki was cast as a professional wrestler, and Chiharu shot him a sympathetic glance. Oliver, Celia's love, was cast as… Eriol! Sakura sighed. It was a match made in heaven, she decided, just as Syaoran was cast as the jester, Touchstone.

"NANI!? I'M PLAYING THE WHAT?!" he screeched, livid.

"The jester, Mr. Li. Please, exert some self-control. Honestly. Let's see… As the antagonistic Duke Frederick, Zinan Kudo. And as Orlando…" She drew the last name out of the hat. "Takai Kudo."

_Oh shit, _Sakura thought. _No. NOT HIM. Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh SHIT!_ She looked fearfully over to where Takai was sitting, dumbstruck. His expression bore utter shock. She closed her eyes. She looked instead at Syaoran, who caught her eye. They exchanged a tiny, secret smile that made her get a warm fuzzy feeling inside. But this was no fairy tale. And she'd have to play Rosalind, Orlando's true love.

XXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXX

"I mean, seriously! He hates me!" she raged, erasing a foot soldier furiously.

"Chill. I know. You can just quit."

"Didn't you hear her?! This thing counts three test grades! Kaboom goes my average!" she exploded.

"Erm. Okay… Let's just keep working, right?" said Syaoran. "How far are you, anyway?"

"I'm done with the first half on sword fighting. The, uh, second bit, about hand fighting, I've done most of the sketches, but nothing really, you know. Big," she said, calming down slightly.

"Well, I've done 25 pages of the report. Then I have to do the, ah, bibliography, EW, and the captions for all the pictures. And then we're done, I think."

"Well, that's cool. When's it due again?"

"Saturday," he said. (A/N: It's not uncommon for kids in Japan to go to school on Saturday, poor things.)

"Okay, cool. So should we work on it after school today? We need to, like, choreograph the sword stuff, too," Sakura said, finishing another small figure in the horse stance. "Wait, hang on. Tomorrow? I have something today."

"Yeah, that's cool," he said. "Your house or mine?"

"How about mine? I've already been to your house."

"Awesome," Syaoran said, and completed another paragraph.

The pair worked in contented silence until the bell rang gratingly, and Eriol hurried over.

"You said you needed a ride somewhere?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah. I'm going to Daidouji's house," she said, shooting him a grin. "But I don't know where it is, crap!" Her smile faded. "Um, I'll go and, uh, find her; I guess… bee are bee." (…brb…)

"Oh. Well. Actually, she gave me her address," said Eriol, blushing.

"Oh really?" smirked Sakura. "Well then. Let's go," she said, and they walked outside to the student parking lot and got in Eriol's beat-up old Subaru.

They drove down the street, looking for the house, but they couldn't see it. There was just a long wall all the way down the sidewalk.

"Hm, that's weird. It specifically says this street," mused Eriol.

"Ah, I think I just figured something out," said Sakura, yanking the address from his hands. She pointed to a large golden number on the huge wall. Eriol's eyes widened.

"That's her house?" he yelped shrilly.

"Yuh-huh," said Sakura lazily, and threw the address back at him. "Dude, your girlfriend's got some house. It's like Syaoran's."

"She's not my-" stuttered Eriol.

"Whatever," said Sakura, and opened the car door. She grinned at the blushing Eriol and rang the bell by the huge gates.

"Yes?" said a voice through a speaker.

"Sakura and Eriol Kinomoto for Daidouji Tomoyo, please," said Sakura.

"Mmhmmm…" said the voice, and the gates creaked open. Sakura walked onto the crunchy gravel, and they slowly made their way up the long, curved driveway to the large house – no, not house, villa – and knocked the lion's head knocker. Tomoyo answered.

"Oh, hey, Kinomoto. And Eriol. Can I call you Sakura, by the way?" she asked.

"Uh, sure," said Sakura.

"Well, come in, come in," enthused Tomoyo, ushering the pair in. "Okay, I've totally got this all set up. Me and Eriol are gonna sit in my room as you try on the kimonos."

"Hm? That's it?" asked Sakura. "No measurements or things?"

"Ah, well, hehehe, I kinda made them before measuring anyone, but they're supposed to be really loose and fit anyone anyway. Except one, which I'm custom making like for geishas, so yeah, we will have to take some measurements! Yay!" she squealed alarmingly.

"Uh, you're happy about taking measurements?" inquired Sakura, their heels clicking on the hardwood polished floors. Tomoyo guided them up a marble staircase with red carpet on it.

"Yeah, it's always fun taking measurements," said Tomoyo, as if this was totally obvious. "Okay, in here." She opened a door and Sakura gasped. It was obviously Tomoyo's bedroom, but it was amazing. It was about twice the size of Sakura's kitchen, with a ceiling about fifteen feet high. The bed had a huge, soft, snowy-colored comforter piled on top of it, with more throw pillows than Sakura could count without moving around to consider a different angle. There was a huge yin-yang rug, redundantly placed on the dense white carpet. The whole room was either white or black.

"You like the colors?" said Tomoyo. "Black and white looks so clean, even when it's all messed up."

"Uh, of course!" said Sakura. In truth, it did look clean, but she had never seen such luxury in black and white. There was a sofa along the wall with huge Victorian windows behind it, letting in huge columns of light that illuminated the white stereo system, the white laptop sitting on the black-tinted glass table, and the white iPod plugged into the wall, charging. The TV in the corner was at least five feet across, and in a white cabinet. Along the far wall was a row of shutter-doors.

"What's in those doors?" asked Sakura.

"Oh. Clothes, mostly. Also some other stuff, but mostly clothes. Mostly clothes." She walked over to one of the doors and pulled it open. The rest automatically opened. There were rows upon rows of clothes of every type. Sakura's jaw dropped.

"Why do you need so many… clothes?" she said incredulously.

"Oh. Well, I want to be a designer, so I take a cute design from here, a style from there. I don't actually wear all that. Anyway, let's move into the room off my room. It's better for stuff like this."

They walked into the next room, which wasn't all white and black. It was full of beige and cream tones instead. Sakura got a start when Tomoyo snapped her fingers and a sofa swiveled across the ground on grooves scored into the wood. She turned on the rest of the lights.

"Okay, remind me what your mom does again?" Eriol said, as a large runway on the other side of the room was illuminated.

"She's a designer too. Modeling industry, clothing designs, you name it, she does it," said Tomoyo happily. "Anyway. Let's get you into these, Sakura."

She pressed a button on the wall and a panel slid back, revealing a line of kimonos, with all sorts of vibrant, intricate designs and varied cuts.

"Wow, you made those?" asked Eriol.

"Yep," she said proudly. "I like the dark ones best, but the pink's nice too. You can just change in that little room over there, Sakura." She indicated yet another door next to the runway. Sakura nodded, took one of the kimonos, and disappeared into the room.

"So, do you want to go to college?" asked Eriol.

"I don't know. I mean, it looks good on applications, but with this kinda job, ah, you don't really need to go to college, just a good eye. It's like music. Speaking of which, Sakura told me you played electric guitar," she said.

"Oh, yeah. I want to go professional, but I don't have anyone else to play with. No back-up singers or anything. I mean, Sakura sometimes plays drums or keyboard for me, but a two-person band isn't really. Well."

"Yeah," Tomoyo laughed. "Hey, my dad used to be a pro musician. We have a recording studio downstairs, actually. He and my mom bought this house. Maybe you wanna go down there after we finish with Sakura's stuff?"

"Yeah," Eriol said, his blue eyes twinkling. "I'd like that." He pretended not to notice her move closer to him as Sakura walked in.

"Oh, my, GOSH! That looks so ADORABLE!" squealed Tomoyo. "Tie it tighter." She got up and adjusted the tie on the pink kimono until it was practically skintight. "There. That is so cute. I actually made all of them on this exact pattern, so they'll all fit! That is so awesome. Here, try on the dark blue next."

Sakura nodded meekly and exited once more.

"Your sister is so pretty," Tomoyo sighed. "I mean, seriously. She should model or something."

"Yeah, she just doesn't like clothes that show her as feminine in any way, I dunno. She just, ah. Well." He coughed and pushed his glasses further up his brow.

Sakura walked back in. "I don't know if it's my color," she mused, looking down.

"Yeah, you're right. You're more an earth tone. Let's try this black one with the stars."

"So Eriol, how long have you played guitar?"

"Uh, guitar? Ten years, maybe a little longer."  
"Really? That's so cool! I don't play instruments. I sing, though. Do you play anything else?"

"Let's see. I play, hm, saxophone, keyboard, guitar, flute, clarinet some, and drums. Oh. And I sing. But I only really practice guitar and keyboard, the rest are just like hobbies."

"That's amazing!" Tomoyo gushed. "You must be really musical! Do you write music?"

"Yeah, I've written a few songs," said Eriol modestly. He had, in fact, written two binders full of music, but preferred to play others' music. Sakura walked onto the runway.

The black made Sakura look beautiful and exotic, and the bright stars looked like diamonds, matching her smile.

"Totally. You are so wearing that. Okay, so let's see. Definitely this one and the pink. Hm… Try on the green; I think that three's enough."

"Only three?" asked Eriol. "But you made like ten!"

"Yeah, but it was mainly for the fun of it. Oh, there's the bell! It's probably Zinan. Hold up a second." She hurried out, muttering something to herself.

Moments later, Zinan walked into the room. "Oh, hey," he said. "Where's Tomoyo?"

"Uh, didn't she just answer the door?"

"But I never ring the doorbell, she knows that. I just kinda come in. Hm."

A minute later, Tomoyo reentered the room, accompanied by Syaoran.

"Oh, Zinan. There you are. Syaoran decided to come over and hang out. Syao, Sakura should be coming out soon." Just as she said it, Sakura walked out onto the brightly lit runway.

The other two kimonos had been nice, but this one outdid both of them. The kimono's soft green made Sakura's eyes stand out fiercely, and the light brown accented her tanned skin perfectly. She looked like a vision of perfection.

"Oh, hey, Syaoran!" she called, and hopped down from the runway. "I didn't know you were coming."

"Yeah, I…" he said, looking her up and down. "You look really nice. Who made that?"

"I did!" piped Tomoyo. "Oh, that looks fabulous! What do you think, Zinan?"

"Yeah, it looks good," said Zinan. "Like the one I researched in 300 B.C. about-"

"Okay, okay, okay," said Tomoyo hurriedly. "He's almost as bad with history as I am with clothes. Now, shoes!"

"Er, all right," said Sakura. _How many can there be to try?_ she thought.

_Ah. That many._ Sakura was stunned. There was a whole cupboard full of shoes, some with four-inch heels that Sakura gawped at.

"Let's see. With the black, wear these," said Tomoyo, fishing out a pair of rhinestone-studded black sandals with, Sakura was glad to see, low heels. "And the green, these." Sakura marveled at the ease with which Tomoyo sorted through the shoes, passing pair upon pair upon pair speedily and immediately identifying those that would look good. These were heels with small straps, light brown in color. She chose a pair of silver high-heels for the pink. Sakura winced as she slipped her feet into the three-inchers, almost feeling her feet's arches screaming in protest.

"All right! We are so done! I'll do your makeup on the day, don't worry," Tomoyo reassured.

They walked back over to the guys, who were talking comfortably.

"Dude, Sakura! You didn't tell me Syaoran plays the keyboard!"

"Piano, actually," Syaoran corrected.

"Yeah, that. Would you play with me, downstairs?"

"Sure, that'd be fun. Do you have stuff for me to read?"

Eriol fished through his backpack and came up with one of his music binders. He handed it to Syaoran, who opened it. He frowned, sat down, put the binder on his lap, and started fingering in mid-air, humming softly. He looked up.

"You wrote this? It's got a really nice melody!" he exclaimed. Eriol blushed and stammered some.

"All right, shall we voyage downstairs, then?" suggested Tomoyo. Everyone nodded. Sakura and Eriol slung their bags onto their backs, and they walked back downstairs. They went down a short hall and opened a door. Sakura gasped. It was a high-tech recording studio. A microphone hung from the ceiling. Eriol touched it slightly, as if afraid to. Tomoyo opened a closet and took out music stands.

The ceiling was angled. Sakura assumed it was for acoustic reasons.

"You wanna record something?" asked Tomoyo. "I'm not really sure how it works, but I can set the microphone to hear the whole room. There's a ton of other instruments in the next room."

"Seriously?" said Eriol. She nodded. She opened the door, and they filed out. When they returned, Eriol had in his hands a six-string Fender electric guitar he'd found. Syaoran was wheeling a sleek keyboard, Sakura was grunting to shove a drum set in the door, and Zinan, bizarrely, was holding an antique-looking ukulele.

"Er, do you actually play the ukulele?!" asked Syaoran.

"Yeah," said Zinan. "I started when I was eight. Why?"

"Isn't that kinda like a guitar?" said Eriol

"Sorta…" said Zinan. "Why?"

"Could you maybe play the bass guitar?"

"Uh, maybe… Why?"

"Because we need a bass line, stupid," said Sakura, and shoved a bass guitar into his hands. "Look, it's not that hard, the bass line never really has a hard part."

Eriol shifted through his songs, and let out a small 'ah' as he turned to a specific page. He took out the folder containing all the different parts and placed the handwritten sheets in front of each of them.

"You said you sing, right?" he asked Tomoyo. "Are you good at sight reading?"

"I'm fair," she said. "Lemme see that."

Sakura quietly tapped on the different drums, Syaoran traced the song on the keyboard, and Zinan squinted at the music. "Uh, what's this?" he asked Eriol. "Is that a G?" he said, putting his hands on the large guitar.

"Yeah," said Eriol. "That's that fingering." He moved Zinan's hands to the right position. "See, that's basically what you do the whole time." Zinan nodded.

Tomoyo softly sang her part, with Eriol tapping on his knees and fingering on his guitar furiously.

"Okay, guys, are we about ready?" said Eriol after about ten minutes.

They all nodded and looked around. Eriol took a shaky breath. "You wanna record this, Tomoyo?"

"Let's just try it out first, see if we need a new song or something."

"Okay, cool," Eriol said, and nodded at Sakura to start drumming. Slowly she beat out the steady rhythm. Syaoran's right hand started the harmony as Zinan's G set in. Eriol played the melody with his guitar, and as he hit the last high note, Sakura smashed the cymbals. Then Eriol started singing.

_I smiled when I saw her_

_What do you think? I said._

_You just smiled back at me, and_

_Slowly nodded your head._

_I don't know how I missed it,_

_That glimmer in your eye_

_As I turned to walk towards her_

_And slowly waved goodbye._

_I thought she was the one_

_Who would always make me smile_

_I thought she was the only one_

_Who would be worth my while._

_And I never saw you._

_I never saw you standing there,_

_With that slightly sad expression_

_And with teardrops in your hair._

_I never saw you,_

_I never saw you next to me._

_And I never saw how much more_

_You and I could be._

_You know, she's gone now,_

_And I never saw your tears,_

_And I find myself wanting to see you,_

_Even after all these years._

_I wish that I could see you,_

_But I really don't know why,_

_I wish that I could see your face_

_And that twinkle in your eye._

_And I realize that it's unfair_

_To be asking for rebound_

_When you're the one who I left_

_And not the other way around._

_Cause I never saw you._

_I never saw you standing there,_

_At our picnic on the hilltop_

_With the sunshine in your hair._

_I never saw you,_

_I never saw you next to me._

_And I never saw how much more_

_You and I could be._

_And if by chance, I see you,_

_See your face when I'm walking down the way,_

_I'll tell you that I missed you_

_And bless every single day._

_I remember when you stood outside for hours in the rain_

_And I never came_

_If I'd known then what I know now_

_I'd never let you leave_

_And we'd dance for hours in the rain_

_And we'd finally believe._

_Cause now I see you_

_I finally see you standing there_

_With your eyes closed and your smile shining_

_And the breeze drifting in your hair._

_And now I see you,_

_I can see you next to me._

_But when my eyes are shut and I'm alone_

_Is the only time I can see._

Tomoyo's high, complex vocalization trailed off and Eriol started attacking his guitar with a solo. Sakura raised an eyebrow surreptitiously at him, but his eyes were closed. He hit the last high note, and then cut off the guitar's noise. Syaoran peered closely at his music and played a speedy, intricate passage of 32nd notes. Then he slowed back down to the simple harmony, Sakura broke off the drums, and they stopped.

"Wow, I can't believe you wrote that. Dude," said Zinan. Eriol blushed.

"I recorded it. Wanna listen?" asked Tomoyo. They all eagerly nodded. It was a short song, not longer than two and a half minutes, but the recording didn't sound bad.

"That wasn't bad!" said Sakura. "I'm impressed, brother dear." Eriol scowled.

"I don't know. It lacks a certain… je ne sais pas…" he said.

"You got synthesizers?" asked Syaoran.

"That's right! I did make a special effects part!" he said, shuffling through the binder and pulling out a sheet. "And a xylophone part and a strings part, but you know, that's kinda optional."

"Anyway, that sounded really good, guys," said Zinan. "And you lied. It wasn't just Gs. There was also an A."

"Oops, sorry," said Eriol sarcastically, and they laughed. "Oh, gosh! It's six o'clock! We've gotta go, guys."

"All right. Well, thanks SO much, Sakura! And Eriol, maybe you wanna come over and do it again sometime?"

"Yeah, sure! Thanks, this was awesome."

"All right. Guess I'll go too. See you tomorrow," said Zinan.

"Yeah, bye," said Syaoran, waving. Tomoyo, Eriol, and Sakura wheeled the instruments back out and put them away as the other two left.

"Oh, er, Daidouji,"

"It's Tomoyo, Sakura."

"Ah, Tomoyo… is there, like, a bathroom anywhere?" she asked.

"Oh, sure. Straight down that hallway, right at the end."

Sakura started to walk down the hallway as the other two went back inside the studio.

"So, Tomoyo, I was wondering, if maybe… you wanted to, uh, get dinner tomorrow?" blurted Eriol, turning to face Tomoyo.

"I would love to," said Tomoyo. She looked up into his cobalt eyes and brushed away a bit of his hair from between his eyes. Slowly he put an arm around her waist. She moved closer to him and tilted her head up.

"I'm back!"

The two broke apart swiftly.

"Oh, sorry, did I interrupt anything?" said Sakura apologetically.

"No, we were just, uh, getting his music binder," stuttered Tomoyo.

Sakura had not gone to the bathroom. She'd gone to say goodbye to Syaoran, but Eriol didn't need to know that, seeing as he didn't know that she'd kissed him, either.

"Syaoran!"

Syaoran stopped in his tracks outside Tomoyo's door. "Sakura?" He turned around, and Sakura stood on her tiptoes and placed a kiss on his lips.

"Goodnight," she said. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.

"Sweet dreams," he responded, smiling. She waved and dashed back inside. She entered the music room and Eriol and Tomoyo abruptly stepped apart. _Oops…_

Eriol seemed to be bouncing on the balls of his feet as they stepped into the car.

"What're you so happy about?" Sakura said.

"I have a date with Tomoyo tomorrow," he said cheerily, slinging his bag into the back seat.

"Really?! Where are you gonna take her?"

"Uh, I don't know…" he said. "Wacdonald's?"

"You can't take Daidouji – I mean, Tomoyo, to Wacdonald's!"

"Oh. I knew that," he said, pulling into the driveway.

Sakura ran inside. Eriol dumped the keys on the table and Sakura slammed the telephone directory down in front of him, making him jump.

"Look for somewhere, idiot!" she said. "How about here?" She pointed at a restaurant.

"House of Stars? How is that a restaurant?" he said.

"It's under the restaurants section, dolt. It sounds nice. Take her there."

"Uh, okay," said Eriol, and wrote down the address on his hand.

Sakura looked up at the ceiling, and as she did so, mused that life, too, was looking up.

* * *

**Hope you liked it. :3 Haha, sorry about the slightly cheesy song, but I actually made up a tune that goes with it, haha. Too bad you can't hear it... (:( **

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